Uneasy Alliance
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: There's a reason why Desmond is so wanted. His lineage has quite the reputation, and the three who find him are willing to work to get him to trust them again. Steampunk!AU
1. Chapter 1

Desmond near shrieked when he felt a hand on his thigh under his piles of boxes.

"I think I've found him, loves."

He felt the hand retreat, and he started army crawling from under his tunnel. He heard the first box be lifted from the pile.

"Are you sure?"

"Only so many things feel like flesh."

He was almost at the open vent.

"There goes his foot!"

He felt a hand wrap around his ankle, and he grunted and kicked backward. When the hand let go, he dashed and dived head-first, scrabbling into the small opening. Thank God he was skinny. The loud clanking as he scrabbled rung in his ears.

"Hold on, mate! We're friends!"

He leapt and grabbed the ledge of vent to pull himself up.

"Mate, wait!"

He had heard that before. He scrabbled up the metal venting, adrenaline pounding through his veins. He wasn't going to be caught. He climbed through the vents until he was peering to the outside.

"He's right below us. I heard him."

He shrank back down, moving as quietly as he could.

"Should we take off the fan?"

He was panicking: he was cornered. Slowly, he made his way to a different opening and kicked it open, dashing through and out the door. He felt a large body tackle him, pinning him to the concrete road. He thrashed, listening to the other person's grunts. He wasn't going to die.

"Stop," the body grunted, "squirming!"

"No!" he shouted, connecting a solid kick to the kneecap.

"Lucy!"

He twisted his head and dug his teeth into the man's shoulder, managing to get his hands up enough to grab his captor's arms and started clawing him. He was glad he kept his nails sharp for these reasons as the man hissed in pain. He could taste blood.

"Goddamnit! Stop it, you bloody tit! We're allies of the Resistance!"

He howled and thrashed harder, sinking his teeth in deeper and digging his nails into the man's soft belly. He felt something prick his neck, and that was the last thing he remembered.

When he woke up, he was in a soft bed with a warm comforter over him. It smelled slightly of cucumber melon—the smell of his mother's bed. He smiled slightly: it must be a dream. He rolled onto his side, curling one arm under the pillow and burying his nose in it.

"No, he's asleep, sir. He's got a ridiculous smile on his face. He must be dreaming."

He froze.

"Yessuh, he's related to them. He's our last survivor. Tit fucking got my arms, stomach, and shoulder good… I'm going to let him sleep… No, he's hooked up to several IVs… Yes… Malnourished… No, probably from running and paranoia… He'll be okay… Yes… Tough fighter… Not skilled, survival fighting… No… Yes, sir… No, I'm hanging up… Yes, to let him sleep."

His eyes cracked open just enough to see three IVs in his arms and the man who must have tackled him sitting in a chair.

"Bloody useless idiot."

He closed his eyes and curled under the sheets, drawing them up and under his arm. He was in for it now.

"Fuck, he's gorgeous."

"I know, right? Even though he's as skinny as a rail."

It was one of the other three—sounded female.

"Well, that group was one of the strongest groups we had," the third voice, female, said. "The fact that they took a year of constant barrages and siege to fall should've shown you how good they were."

"Really?" the man said. "I bet once we get him in shape—"

"Fuck," the first female voice said. "He's gonna be ripped."

"We should let him sleep."

He heard them pad out, and he was asleep within minutes, whatever they had drugged him with still working out of his system. When he woke again, there was a woman with blonde hair sitting by his side. He blinked blearily.

"Awake now?"

He grunted, raising his arms to rub his eyes. He felt her hand wrap around his wrist.

"Don't do that. You've got IVs in your arm."

He growled softly, and he heard the woman laugh.

"Welcome to the Resistance, Desmond."

He harrumphed and rolled on his stomach. He heard the woman gasp when the IVs were pulled.

"Be careful, please. I know that you're still sleepy."

He grunted: his face planted firmly in the pillow. "No."

He heard her sigh.

"Look, you useless lump of flesh, we're bothering to take care of you—the least you can do is show us some gratefulness since we saved your ass from the Templars outside that warehouse."

That accent—he must have been from the Western shores. "Fuck off," he mumbled. "I fucking hate all of you."

There was silence, and Desmond spoke again.

"Leave me alone. I don't want to be with you."

"Why not?" the blonde woman asked.

"Fucking shit ass-bandits. I'm sick of your kind."

"You are one of 'our' kin—"

"No, I'm not. I'm not one of your Goddamn kind. Leave me alone."

"Listen, you bloody arse, you are, whether you like it."

"No. Not since my mother packaged me as a dead body to be rolled out of the town so I wouldn't die. Leave me the fuck alone."

He curled up, pulling up the covers to his chin and ignoring the sigh when the IV tubing was tugged on. He frowned and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to pull up his fading memories of his mother and father. Their arms around him, his father wrestling with him, or his mother teaching him—they were all a dying part of his past, and he didn't want it to be dying, either. Especially since he hadn't any other memory like that to keep him going or anyone love him like that in ten years. Being on the run was not for good relationship.

"Are you even listening?"

He ignored them. Eventually, they left him alone, only coming in to change the IV or bring him food from a formulated diet. He filled out quickly, gaining a healthy amount of weight. Finally, he got out of bed to pace around the house.

It was a house—a moving house. There were machines everywhere as the house rocked and swayed as it moved. Perhaps not a house, per se, but a ship—Desmond had always wanted to be on one. Pipes ran up and down the walls, and loose plaster tried its best to cover most of it. The worn wood under his feet was a luxury compared to the concrete and metal he was used to. He stood in the narrow hallway—barely big enough for two people shoulder to shoulder.

"Well, looks like you're up! Luce! Shaun! He's out!"

He whirled around, teeth bared and fingers curved, ready to attack. The woman before him had a conductor's hat covered in patches and badges and pins, and a set of goggles rested on the visor. Her shirt was a black tank with advertising for some airship company—"Pheonix" he thought it was. She had a tan jacket with belts to strap it closed hanging loosely around her shoulders, and her black baggy mechanic's pants ran into high black, steel-toed boots with buckles all up the front.

"Who the fuck are you?"

She made him feel almost bad for being in threadbare shirt and pants. He didn't even have shoes.

"Rebecca Crane, I'm the mechanic on this girl."

His lip curled when he saw two more people. The man was dressed in proper attire—expensive attire—and he didn't dwell on it, but the woman was dressed in a brown dress, ruffled at the bottom, with a white silk, ruffled top covering her shoulders and her hair all done up like those beautiful women he had seen in the courts of the balls he would steal from.

"Don't let her fool you, mate. Lucy's a deadly fighter."

He hissed and backed a step, crouching low. He couldn't help it: he didn't trust these people. He saw Lucy lean forward and extend a hand.

"Desmond, we want to only hel—"

"Stay the fuck away from me, you assholes!"

He was backing up slowly down the hall. He didn't care if he had to jump off the plane to escape. He would. A Leap of Faith never failed. Desmond must have looked filthy compared to these impeccably dressed and cleaned people.

"Desmond, we nee—"

"I'm not giving you anything! Leave me alone!"

He hissed and snarled, his eyes darting between the three. The man stepped forward, and he growled.

"What? Do we have to give you your shots, you animal?"

"Shaun," Lucy said, pushing him out of the way, her skirts swishing around her, "your commentary is the last thing we need right now."

Shaun shrugged. "I'll be in the kitchen. Are you hungry, Rebecca?"

"Famished, man!" Rebecca said, looking after him. "I'll take whatever you're having."

"Dutifully noted."

His back hit the wall, and he noticed a window nearby, but the damn woman did, too, and stepped between him and the window. He was cornered. He snarled when she stepped forward again, and he crouched lower, ready to claw her eyes out.

"Maybe we should just let him adjust," Rebecca said. "You know, like a new pet—"

"I'm not your fucking pet! Leave me alone!"

"—and increase the altitude so he can't jump. Just give him time. After all, he has been living on his own for the past ten years."

Lucy stopped and looked at the only person with some sense on the ship. Any closer and he would've bitten her hand off.

"Well… I don't think we have the time to let him adjust."

"We never do, but it's either that, or let him rip your hand off."

He snarled when she looked at him again, and she withdrew her hand, straightening. She sighed. "I suppose you're right. Maybe we'll get lucky enough he can come to the masquerade."

"He'll have to learn how to fight."

"I can fight: leave me alone."

The much primmer woman frowned but walked off with the mechanic. Desmond waited until they were gone before he straightened. He peered out the window, his stomach tightening as he saw the plane pull higher into the clouds. He was trapped here. Eventually, he resigned himself to this fate, vowing to escape as soon as he could. Sure, he fought like an animal, but he was good enough he didn't need a "formal education."

He'd rip them all to shreds if he had to.

The ship was small, the hallway he was in the only one there was. At one end was the engine room, at the other, the captain's quarters (which Lucy inhabited). There were two more bedrooms beside his, and Shaun's was always clean and tidy; Rebecca's, always a mess of blueprints and designs. There were toilets and sinks in small rooms attached to the bedrooms, and the only shower in the captain's area. He knew he should probably use it, but he was all ready filthy, and his clothes were still threadbare and thin, so he couldn't find it in himself to care. Truth be told, he wasn't sure how to work the nozzles on the shower—he had never been able to clean himself more readily than a sink and a bar of soap or a river, all of which were few and far between with his travels to stay ahead of everyone. There was a (teenie-tiny) kitchen, and a small deck that circled the outside.

Over the next few days, he avoided the others like the plague. If one was in the room, he would leave. If he was trapped, he'd clamber up the pipes to sit in the ceiling, growling if they came too close. His hands and feet were thickly callused from years of training and climbing. He could grab the pipes as heat passed through them and not feel a thing. He also found lying on the railing of the decks outside was wonderful.

He had to admit, though, that the mechanic was probably his favorite. While the other two flat out ignored him, she would leave out pieces of chocolate, casting a glance over her shoulder to where Desmond was. After a week, he began helping her quietly, when she would take a break because something was too high, too stuck, or too tight, he would fix it for her and vanish. She started leaving bottles of sweet, fuzzy drinks for him—pop, he thought he had heard it called. Usually, they were purple and grape, but occasionally, they would be orange. And even better were the clear-ish ones, "cream" soda, he had overheard.

It was after three weeks he finally started talking to them. Well, to Rebecca. She had been sitting in the main engine's room, staring at a screw that was ridiculously high up. Desmond hopped on the banister that accompanied the few stairs leading down to the room, crawling along slowly.

"What's wrong?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. "Desmond?"

He kept his distance as she looked at him, still rather shocked. Then, she shrugged. "Can't reach one of the screws, but I'm too damn lazy to go get the ladder, so I'm just waiting until I've got enough energy."

Desmond blinked as she turned back to staring at the screw. Eventually, "I can get it for you."

She laughed. "Naw, I won't go make you find the ladder—"

Keeping in an arc away from her, he made his way over to the engine and jumped, hoisting himself up the scalding pipes to the screw. She jumped up, and his lip curled.

"No way! How can you stand to touch those?"

He held hand out for the wrench, and she handed it to him. He made certain not to touch her, just in case.

"That's incredible! Holy shit! I've gotta tell Luce!"

His eyes narrowed as she ran off, but he un-tightened the screw and jumped down, crouching on his toes, his elbows on his knees. She came swaggering in a few minutes later, two bottles of the fizzy drink in her hands and a small box

"Okay, I couldn't find Lucy, but I did find the fridge."

She plopped down a safe distance from him and offered one out. He took it and hooked his teeth under the cap, popping it off.

"Man, that is awesome. I'm jealous."

He raised an eyebrow as he took a small sip. "It's the clear soda."

"Cream soda. And here! I stole Lucy's box of candies. She's always 'saving' them, so I figured I could pig out with you."

She opened the box and offered it out. There were all kinds of hard candies—the kind that looked like the boxes in the candy stores he'd seen. He'd always wanted to try them. Hesitantly, he reached out for one, picking out a brown one shaped like a barrel.

"The rootbeer barrels? Interesting choice."

He said nothing as she chose the fiery-red hard candy.

"I like 'em hot."

He put the candy in his mouth slowly, sucking on it. It was good, to say the least.

"Don't tell Shaun, but I'm the one who finished his gummies. I'll share them with you, too, next time he gets them."

He watched her closely as she sighed around the candy and leaned back on her elbows.

"You're awful quiet."

He shifted the candy in his mouth, watching her closely. She began filling the silence with tales of their adventures and how they eventually came across their ship, and while Desmond didn't pay a lick of attention to her, he slowly moved closer, wondering if he should trust her. Eventually, he was within touching distance, and he found himself reaching out to lightly touch the goggles on her head. She fell silent, watching him as he ran his fingers over the engineer-style goggles. He traced the edge of the hat and the band of the eyewear.

"We're planning on getting you some new clothes," she said. "Soon as we land. Lucy's got metal claws being made for you to fight with by one of our allies, Leonardo da Vinci."

"Goddamnit, Rebecca! Would you stop drinking so many of those sodas—"

Desmond was barreling passed Shaun before he could finish his sentence. He didn't help her again for three days. The next time he ventured close, she was on the deck, and he had been lying on the far side on the railing. He opened an eye to look at her and slowly crept closer.

"We land tomorrow," she said without looking at him. "In the city of Shuar Usa."

He stopped several feet away. The wind was threatening to tear him from the ship, but he wasn't going to let it.

"We'll get you new clothes. I'm in charge," she said as she smirked. "Since I'm the only one that's talked to you."

"What if I run?"

"It's the last Resistance-dominated town. You won't be able to."

His lip curled, and he hunched closer to the railing as he growled.

"Hey, hey, relax. Lucy and Shaun aren't coming with. I've put them in charge of restocking the ship."

"I don't care. Leave me alone."

"We can't. You're too important."

"Why?"

"Because the place you came from was our strongest. And we need you to help us."

"I don't want to help you."

"Please? I'll take you to the candy store!"

He looked surprised when Rebecca offered, turning to him with her hands pressed together.

"I need someone I can talk to. I mean, geezus, Lucy and Shaun are so stuffy and mean sometimes, and you'll sit there and drink soda with me and steal candy with me, and you help me work on Baby. Please, Desmond?"

She looked like a kid as she begged him. He frowned, studying here.

"I know you don't trust me, but please stay, even if just for the company?"

He frowned and turned to look at the clouds sailing past. He watched her from his peripheral, and she seemed to be debating something before reaching out slowly. When he tensed, she stopped, but he made no indication of caring particularly, and she lightly touched his knee as he perched on the railing. His gaze snapped to the hand, and he could see it pull back slightly, but not retreat.

"Please?" she asked again, and his eyes flicked to her before back to the hand.

He watched it as if it were going to attack him, and when it slide forward and rested on his thigh, he found himself growling softly, his lips beginning to pull back into a snarl. She didn't move it as he stared at her hand, watching, waiting, and ready to attack.

"I think it's cool how animalistic you are," Rebecca said. "That was the specialty of your people. That's why it took so long for them to be wiped out."

Desmond's gaze flickered to her again, his lips slowly straightening.

"You were trained to fight like monsters, and I'll be damned when I saw you fighting Shaun. They knew what they were doing. You guys were the test group. The success group."

He looked back down at the hand. It was vaguely reminiscent of his mother's touch, warm and inviting.

"You guys aren't technically humans."

He slowly let go of the rail with one hand and reached to cover his hand with hers. She smiled at him when he did. He pulled her hand off and hopped down from the railings, twisting her hand slightly so he could hold it as he leaned against the rails. He missed his mother. Rebecca hummed happily when he held her hand.

"That's a yes?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. She laughed and squeezed his hand slightly.

"It's good to have you on board, Desmond."

He said nothing, just stood there, holding Rebecca's hand as they watched the clouds pass them in the ship. As light faded to dark, Rebecca yawned mightily.

"I'm off to bed. Gotta get up earlier for landing."

He looked at her, not quite wanting to let go of her hand yet. She grinned at him.

"You know, if you weren't so jumpy, I'd let you sleep with me tonight. Just by standing this close and holding your hand, I can tell you're a fucking heater. Much warmer than Shaun or Lucy."

Desmond startled, letting go and stepping back a step. "You've slept with both of them?"

Rebecca shrugged. "It's who we are. Keeps our team together, yeah? Anyway, my bed's open if you need a body to cuddle with."

She walked inside, and Desmond watched her go. The moon was high before he crept in, checking the halls for signs of the other two. He peeked into Rebecca's room. She was curled up on her bed, dressed in a bra and her (men's) underwear. Her hair was sticking out all over the pillow, and he crept in closer. She murmured when he tried getting on. He froze, one leg on the bed as she turned over and opened her eyes slightly.

"Des?"

He began to pull away, but she smiled sleepily and let her hand flop uselessly at a second pillow on her bed.

"I's cold. Get in here."

He looked at her suspiciously. He didn't know if he should trust her, but she looked inviting, and her bed looked warm. And if she didn't mind how filthy he was, she looked like she might be fun to sleep with. It had been a long time since he had the luxury of another living body against his—his last memory, of his mother when he was sixteen, and he had curled up with her as they napped in a garden.

His heart was pounding, and it took him a bit to fall asleep, but eventually, he crawled under the blankets and lay in the warm bed. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she cuddled close, laughing tiredly and telling him to relax. She was warm, and so was the bed, and he nestled against her.

When morning came, the two were hopelessly entwined with each other as if they were trying to suck the other's heat away. Desmond licked his lips several times as he finished dreaming about the rootbeer candy he had eaten a few days ago. He stretched, his muscles tensing tightly before he shifted. The warm body beside him grunted, pulling the pillow over its head, despite the fact the arm was wrapped securely around Desmond's. He grunted, and Rebecca looked at him groggily.

"Go back to sleep."

Desmond murmured something nonsensical and rubbed his nose, which was hard with their arms twined together, before hiding his eyes in the crook of her neck. She smelled of oil and dirt—like an engineer should—and Desmond found it comforting. It wasn't like the light, sweet smell of his mother, but there was definitely something feminine about the way she smelled, and combined with the smell of the engine room, he found it enjoyable.

When a loud knock resounded through the door, Desmond jumped, the covers soaring into the air as he scrambled from the bed and pressed against the far wall, snarling. Rebecca, now fully awake, stormed over to the door and threw it open.

"What the fuck, Shaun? I was sleeping!"

Shaun was at the door, all dressed in his knee-length black overcoat with tails, his black waistcoat and white collared shirt. He had a black tie and black pants and made Desmond want to attack when he gave a haughty scoff at him. "Sleeping or no, we're approaching Shuar Usa. Get your ass in gear."

"Damnit! I was all curled in with Desmond—"

"Congratulations, you giant slut. You slept with an animal—"

"Not fuck, you asshole," she shouted as she shoved him. "And fuck off. Let me get ready, you sniveled-nose prick."

Shaun rolled his eyes. "I'm rigging the straws next time. I'm never waking you again."

"Fuck off, asshole."

She slammed the door and rubbed her eyes. Desmond growled when she walked toward him, and she stopped, holding her hands up.

"Woah, sorry. I'm a little grouchy in the morning. I was gonna suggest we take a shower."

Desmond's eyes widen. "Together?"

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "It's big enough for two, but the tank for one shower. You'll have to wait, and even though I enjoy the smell of dirt and sweat and grime, Lucy and Shaun don't."

He studied her carefully as she gathered her clothes and started walking out. He crept behind her, still uncertain if he should trust her. She hadn't tried to kill him in his sleep, and he had enjoyed having her next to him. He paused just outside the shower door. She didn't bother to close it, just stepped in and started stripping.

He squirmed uncomfortably in his spot. Desmond wanted to take a shower, but he still wasn't sure he could trust her. He had been waken before he could realize what position he was in that morning and adjust—he didn't know. She turned on the water and stepped in, sighing.

"Hey, Desmond!" she said, peeking out of the shower curtain. "I had an idea, since you're still all jumpy and paranoid."

He stared at her.

"Why don't you let me wash you, and vice versa? Hm? I think that might help. If you don't want to, then you don't have to."

His heart was pounding. He didn't think it would be a good idea to let her wash him, but she was right, and she did seem trustworthy—it was his own doubt that stopped him. Hesitantly, he stepped in and closed the door, pulling off his shirt and pants. They really were the only thing he had owned on the run. He hesitated briefly before tentatively pulling back the curtain.

"Hey! You decided to join me."

"Yeah… I guess."

His voice sounded odd to his own ears. He wasn't used to using it, and he had a feeling he was going to enjoy talking with her. Rebecca pressed the soap into his hand, and he jumped.

"Here, you can go first, if you like, so you can touch me, instead of me touching you."

He stepped in, breath hitching at the hot water.

"Is it too hot?"

"Ah! No. No, I'm just… I've.. well…"

Rebecca grinned, hands on her hips.

"It's the first shower I've take since I ran away."

Her eyes grew wide. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Rebecca whistled in disbelief. "I don't know how you do it, Des."

He was situated under the stream of water, enjoying it. Rebecca was too close for comfort, but the shower was small, and the stream of water would only fit them if she pressed against him. He wasn't sure he could handle that without panicking. Rebecca moved in close without waiting, and he tensed as she pressed her back against him.

"Sorry, kid, but I'm not letting you hog all the water."

He still had the soap bar in his hand—he could potentially kill her with it if she tried something funny. Nevertheless, he took one of her arms and began washing it with the soap. He heart was racing: "man alive," he was paranoid something was going to happen to him. She hummed contentedly as he washed one arm, then the other, then her back, her butt, and her legs, her feet, then up the front, over her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders, her neck (he thought about how easy it would be to kill her), and her face, her hair. He had to admit he liked it. She looked so utterly at ease, and he felt slightly proud. He must have done a decent job as he scrubbed the soap through her hair.

"Geeeeeeeeeeeeez, Des," her voice was rough, "you really know how to pamper a woman. Teach this to Shaun, would ya?"

He grinned. "I don't think I could teach him if I tied him up and forced him to watch."

Rebecca chuckled as he tilted her head back to wash the soap out. "True."

He finished cleaning her and stepped back slightly. "Better?"

She nodded. "I can see where the water is trying to get that grime off. Com'ere, lemme clean you."

He clutched the bar, hard, as he moved back. Rebecca's eyebrows rose, and she held up her hands.

"I'm not gonna harm you, okay? Just trust me."

He found himself whining softly as she slowly pried the soap from his hand. His arm pulled away when she finally got it. She knelt down in front of him.

"Relax, all right?"

He tried, but his muscles tensed when she touched his leg. As she continued to wash him, he couldn't deny it felt good, but it was hard for him to trust her. When she touched his hips, they jerked back minutely.

"Sorry, Des."

She went slowly, gently working up his body. He jerked whenever she moved to a different area, and when she touched his dick, he growled softly, stepping back.

"Sorry, sorry, you just seemed so… at ease about washing me."

He squirmed. "No, no. You've done nothing but help me. I'm just… having problems trusting anyone."

She laughed. "When was the last time you jerked off?"

"What?" he shouted, stepping back.

"You're just so tense." She laughed. "Have you ever—"

"No. No. I haven't. I've never even thought about it."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're…"

"Twenty-eight."

"And you've never come?"

"No."

"Wow…"

"I don't see why it's so important. It's not like I could get laid if I wanted to."

"You were walking the streets of our enemies! You could've had a whole harem and not been caught!"

"I was walking because I lived in the shadows."

She shook her head. "I can't fucking believe it."


	2. Chapter 2

Her hands were working over his chest and around his shoulders. He swallowed when she rubbed his neck, and when she moved back to his shoulders, he could finally feel himself relaxing. She hadn't done anything fishy around the his neck, and she was gentle enough with the soap. He exhaled softly as she washed his arms, massaging the soap against his hands.

"You know, at first, I thought it was just dirt caked on, but now I realize you're really fucking tan. You're the perfect package, you know?"

He looked at her. "Huh?"

"Look at you!" She poked his abs, causing them to tighten. "You're tall, dark, ripped from climbing all over the ship and living on the run, and you've got a good package."

His hips jerked away when she patted his crotch. She laughed. He scowled.

"You aren't very subtle, are you?"

"Subtle, what's that mean?"

He cracked a small smile.

"Ever been kissed?"

"By my mother and father."

"Is that so?"

He jerked, beginning to panic when Rebecca wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You see, I've been sentenced to the couch for the past month or so because of the fact I've been stealing their candies and going through the sodas twice as fast. Can I at least get your first kiss as a thank you?"

He exhaled, loudly, through his nose and stared into her eyes. "Why?"

"So I can brag to Lucy."

He scoffed. "You're a giant child."

"So?"

He exhaled loudly again: she was giving him the puppy dog eyes. He had grown immune to that.

"Please? They say I've been buying your attention, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm the only one who's talked to you." She pressed up against him, pouting. "Please? I think it's a fair request, and it'll piss Lucy off for me. I'll tell her you didn't know."

"I… Eh…"

He squirmed. He wasn't quite sure he liked how close Rebecca was or how intimate a kiss would be. She could kill him so easily while he kissed her—or things could get out of hand. He wasn't sure how he would respond to the kiss. He had hidden in brothels, sure, when he was running, but he had never slept with the whores—his enemies had, and been killed to help him out. The whores had liked him because he told them his story, and they were impressed, and he often did handy work in return for protection for a night or two, but he had never actually used their services any further than a place to sleep and hide. He wasn't sure what to think.

Still, he mused, it was a small enough request—for a normal person. He figured he could "go for broke" and give her the kiss. Tentatively leaning in, he jumped when Rebecca closed the distance, pressing their lips together in a simple kiss. He could feel her smile against his lips, and jerked, yelping when she pinched his ass and jerking back when they brushed together. She chuckled, resting her head against his chest.

"Your heart is pounding. Relax. I know I took a cheap shot," she murmured.

He tried relaxing, letting her run her hands down and around his waist, gripping lightly, hugging him like a giant teddy bear.

"I can still feel how warm you are," she murmured. "Don't take this offensively, but I used to sleep with my dog, and she was as warm as you."

He frowned. "Hopefully, I'm not as furry."

She patted his chest. "You certainly aren't." She laughed. "But I still think you look hot."

"Um… Thank you?"

"Yeah, it's a compliment."

There was a light knock on the door.

"Yeah? What the Hell do you want?"

"Rebecca," it was Lucy, "we need you to land the ship."

"Fucking whore shit. You know how to. What do you think this is, first class air travel?" She let go, stepping out and grabbing a towel. "I didn't even get to use all the water. That's it, I'm adjusting the grocery list and making it harder for you two to get everything."

"Don't be sore, Rebecca. You know we can't land it nearly as smoothly as you."

She laughed. "True! Nobody can handle Baby as well as I can! Right, I'll be out in a second. Lemme get you a towel, Des."

"Desmond?" he heard Lucy say, shocked.

He was growling softly as Rebecca handed him a fluffy towel. He looked at it as if it were infected.

"Go away, Luce. You're scaring him, and he won't take the towel."

"You got him in the shower with you?"

"Yeah, since you were complaining about how dirty we were. Des, the towel won't bite—I'm sure you could rip it to pieces—and Lucy won't open the door."

He growled, shrinking back slightly before grabbing the towel.

"H-how did you—"

"Lucy, go away. He doesn't trust you."

There was silence, then, "Right… right." As she walked away, "In the shower… who'd have thought?"

When she was away, Desmond was still "on edge," but he shook like a dog, causing Rebecca to yelp. She laughed when he stopped and rubbed his head furiously with the towel. She had started drying off as he rubbed his head, pulling on a clean pair of clothes.

"There's one of Shaun's shirts and pants. I didn't grab you any of his fuddy-duddy over shit. We'll get you something better—and maybe go take a roll in the dirt—once we land."

Desmond raised an eyebrow. "You're mean."

"That's what they get for putting me on the couch, taking away my chocolate for sharing Lucy's candy and the sodas with you, and waking me up. I have a good internal clock system. And they took my fucking chocolate. Of course I'm grouchy. While we're down there, we're getting some more, and I'm putting you in charge of guarding it twenty-four seven."

"I don't get it."

"Chocolate is essential for me to survive. I even share it with Lucy during that time of the month. I bet the whore's eaten all of it."

"That time? You mean when my mother used to drag out those boxes of pads and… things?"

"Tampons? Yeah. Fuck, you get more appealing every time you open your mouth."

"I don't know what they do, but I know she always got irritable, and papa would buy her some chocolate."

She nodded as he shimmed into the pants. "You don't want to know. Trust me: it's messy and gross, and when you notice us getting grouchy, just offer us some chocolate and back away slowly."

He watched her as she dressed. He didn't know what that kiss had done (he suspected poison), but suddenly, she was that much more appealing to him. He could sit and watch her move forever. He must have been getting sick. When she was done, she turned and smiled at him, her blue eyes twinkling with playfulness.

"Come on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting in the cockpit."

She winked playfully and slipped out, and he put on the shirt, only to find her vanished. He crouched low, sticking to the side of the tiny ship, walking to the other end to the engine room.

"You know, mate, you're suppose to button up the shirt."

Desmond spun around, snarling loudly and growling as he looked at the man. He got a closer look, only to realize he had added white gloves and a black top hat, the chain of a silver pocket watch leading into the tailed-jacket. He shrank down, his lips curling back more as he backed up toward the engine room.

"And where are your shoes? Honestly, you really are an animal. Button-up, put on some shoes, and look like a proper gentlemen. Rebecca's below the ship. You can reach it through the trapdoor in her room. And for God's sake, don't ruin my clothes. I have to make appearances in those to gather information."

As the man walked off, Desmond decided he'd show him how "animal" he was and piss in his closet. He stalked into Rebecca's room, shimmying into the small room. Rebecca had a huge smile on her face amidst all the levers and buttons.

"Yo! Des! Come here! I'll show you how to work Baby!"

He didn't like the confined space, but he was beginning to get comfortable around Rebecca, so he was willing to suffer through it. She introduced him to the ship's control board and even let him help a little. He enjoyed the bump of the landing and rumble under his feet as it rolled along. He was smiling by the time it stopped.

"Can I help you next time, too?"

"Sure! It's usually a lot bumpier 'cause of all the levers and buttons for a smooth landing, but I think we could get it almost perfect with the two of us." He grinned, and she bumped their hips together. "You're not half bad once you get passed that rough exterior."

His grin softened to a smile. "I'll get there, once prissy-boy stops bitching."

"Get used to it. I think you should take him, once, really hard, just to show him who's boss."

He wrinkled his nose, and Rebecca laughed, pulling him to the ladder and climbing up. As soon as her ass was level with his face, he pinched it, laughing at her yelp.

"That's for earlier," he growled playfully.

She frowned and rubbed her butt before she stuck her tongue out. "Okay, I deserved that one. But guess what?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking up.

"You touched me this time."

She grinned and scampered out. He blinked, then ran up the ladder after her and crawled into the hallways, looking around excitedly. He liked Rebecca.

"Desmond?"

He whipped around and saw Lucy standing a ways off, dressed in a pastel blue dress with a skirt that showed a layer of black underneath. She had on white gloves and the large, open sleeves, and a golden, web-like necklace around her neck. Her hair was done up and she wore a small pastel blue and black hat. A matching purse rested on her arm. He stepped back slightly, on the defense.

"You really should button-up your shirt."

He didn't bother to call her out when her eyes roamed his chest.

"Why? It's still covering more than the dirty old one I wore."

She stepped forward, and he curled his lip, stepping back. She paused and pursed her lips.

"Desmond, really."

"Why? I don't even like these."

She sighed. "It's proper—"

"I don't care. Leave me alone."

She frowned. "Desmond—"

He snarled. "Leave me alone."

She almost touched her face, and stopped millimeters away. Desmond realized she painted her face like the ladies in court.

"Why are you so dolled up?"

"Dolled up?"

"Like one of those kids' dolls in the toy stores. You look stupid with all that paint on."

Her eyes widened. He straightened slightly, scowling.

"I have to, Desmond. Shaun and I are in charge of Intel and meeting contacts from the higher end of town."

"That's stupid," he growled, and he pushed past her to the deck. Shaun was walking down the steps from the deck, and Desmond rolled his eyes, leaping over the edge and landing near Rebecca.

"Hey, hotstuff, ready to go shopping? They have the list. We can go get you clothes."

Desmond straightened and nodded. "Yeah."

They walked off, and Desmond followed closely as they enter the city. It was a bustling, lively town, and he felt safe there, among the crowd of people doing their shopping, with little more than a few centimeters between their bodies. Crowds were what he was used to, easy to hide in.

"Rebecca! Wait!"

He whirled around, stepping behind Rebecca as Shaun and Lucy came trotting up.

"What the Hell is this?"

Something caught in the corner of his eye, and he cast a casual glance. There was a man, sitting fifteen meters or so away, and on his arm, engraved lightly into the buckle, was the cross of their enemies. He blessed his parents for his enhanced vision. He thought he saw a shotgun by his side, and when he caught the man looking, he knew they were caught.

"Des? What's up? You're growling, and it's kind of freaking us out."

The man got up and picked up the gun.

"Des?"

More movement. There were more here. They had been lured into a trap.

"Hey, Des!"

Like a shot, he snarled and pushed through the crowd, falling on the man like a starved animal. Before the man could even lift the gun, his throat had been ripped apart, and Desmond was snarling as he ran toward the next one. The first gunshot went off, and everybody started panicking. He threw civilians from his path, tackling the next soldier and clawing him as the man struggled. His veins were singing for blood. The other men were moving in, and as they advanced, torn between fighting him off and capturing the others, he systematically ripped them to shreds. He could hear the gunshots whizzing through the air, but his brain was wailing for death. His nose was filled with the smell of the gunpowder, and his tongue heavy with the taste of blood. All he could see was red as he ripped through the enemies.

"Demon!" one shrieked and tried to run.

He never made it more than a few steps.

"He's not human!"

"Retreat!"

"What is that?"

"Fuck!"

"Get the Hell outta here, man!"

"Desmond!"

He turned at Rebecca's voice, seeing two of them trying to carry her off. Shaun and Lucy were running to help, and Desmond howled. The guards froze when the caught sight of him, and he could see them trembling as the other few not holding Rebecca tried to load their guns. He snarled again and sprinted, tackling one of them as they fired and ripping the gun from his hands, beating his face in before rising and swinging it like a club, letting it go to smack into a different soldier.

While the soldier blocked the flying gun, Desmond ripped his stomach out. They would not touch Rebecca. With a roar, he barreled into the next man, forcing the gun from his hands before snapping his neck like a twig, and when he turned around, the two who had been holding her were running without her. He caught one, sinking his teeth deep into its neck as he landed on its back. It jerked and flailed, but he didn't let go until he had its head smashed into the concrete and he was ripping the bone from the neck.

He was twitching with anger and adrenaline as he straightened, his eyes hunting for the last man. He could hear a motorcycle in the distance, and he growled as he panted. He was in the killer mood. Desmond spat the bone and flesh out of his mouth, swallowing thickly and feeling the blood trickle down his throat. There had never been any better taste.

He gazed at the dead bodies as he half-crawled over to Rebecca, who was frozen where she sat. Shaun and Lucy were a few steps away, slightly disheveled but nevertheless still prim and proper, even if they did look scared. Without thinking, he head-butted and rested against Rebecca's shoulder, a soft whining sound coming from him. She jumped as she snapped from her shock and slowly wrapped her arms around him.

He let himself collapse, exhausted. His ribs ached, and his arm hurt badly. His foot felt numb and his side was killing him. He had never been happier that instead of crawling into a gutter and nursing himself back to health, he now had a warm body to crawl back to nurse himself to health. He closed his eyes for just as second as the adrenaline rush slowly left his body.

When he woke next, he was in a clean bed. He had been dreaming about the fight, and he woke with a snort as he killed the final person again. He licked his lips, flinching at the taste of mint in his mouth. When he went to sit up, he winced: his ribs were killing him. Nevertheless, he forced himself up and looked around the room. It looked like those hospital rooms he sometimes saw on the TVs.

"H-hey, you're up."

He looked to his left to find Rebecca in the doorway. He blinked.

"You really shouldn't be sitting up. You're injured."

She had a bandage on the back of her head. He rose from the bed and walked toward her, ignoring the crash as the things hooked up to him were ripped loose. She stepped back, and he stopped, hurt and confused.

"D-Des, you really oughta stay in bed."

His eyebrows knitted together, his lips forming a frown. Rebecca stepped toward him, and he stepped back, sitting on the bed. She smiled, but it was soft, almost afraid. When she was two paces away, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into a tight hug and chuckling at her yelp. He flopped on the bed with her in his arms. He had to admit he liked having her around.

She started laughing. "I should've known you weren't that scary. You're just like my dog."

Desmond huffed, disregarding the pain he was in or the injuries he had as he snuggled in close.

"What happened to that feral thing who hated being touched?"

"You happened," he murmured.

Although, he mused, perhaps there was still a bit of him left. He had pulled her down and wrapped his arms around her so she couldn't move hers—couldn't do anything funny. He yawned, closing his eyes again.

"What the Hell is he?"

He curled around the warm body in his arms. It had moved. It was sitting up. He nuzzled against it.

"Well, he was related to Altair and Ezio. Those two also came from that test group."

Altair and Ezio—he knew those two. Altair was his teacher back home, and Ezio was his father's brother.

"Those two? Damn. I thought he looked familiar."

"It seems to be a common theme. Ezio was tamed by that Leonardo No-Last-Name, and Altair by Malik Al-Sayf and Maria Thorpe."

"Just what kind of 'upgrades' did they force these people to get?"

"Well, I doubt that he underwent the process. They stopped it once those traits were found in the babies, then the people in charge bred them to ensure they would continue to show. But, enhanced vision, reducing recovery time, incredible fighting skills—they turned them into animals."

"I can tell from the 'bred them.'"

"They instilled in them, dredged up from our own brains, the most base and primal instincts we could have. With the enhancements they pumped the bodies with, they were creating an entirely new race to wipe out our enemies with."

"A race of superhumans."

Desmond let his fingers curl against the person's inner thigh, his face pressed into the side of the butt. He squirmed when a hand started rubbing his back.

"A race of animals to fight for us."

"That's inhumane to force the people to do that!"

"And that's where their logic worked: they don't view him and the other two as human as all, simply a creation, a project to win this war for us."

"Shit."

"Well, they did hold out a year against the worst of our enemies forces. The only reason we have a foothold now is because they wiped so many of them out."

Desmond remembered that. He remembered his father coming home, covered in blood, kissing his mother as if it were their last and hugging him as if he were going to die. He remembered walking the streets and hearing the sounds of war in the background as Altair taught them, pushed them, harder to learn to live on their instincts on the battlefield. He remembered Ezio being charged with delivering letters to far off lands with cries for help.

He remembered the day his father never came home. He remembered the day his mother cleaned out a corpse, stuffed him inside, and sent him rolling out with the dead. He remembered running that night. He remembered the fear.

"Shhhh… Des, calm down, kid."

It was Rebecca. It was safety.

"Hey, man, let's change the topic. He's not taking it so well. What were those abilities they pumped into them?"

"Enhanced vision—"

"That explains why he was growling. He must have seen the men before we did."

"Reduced recovery time—"

"Wait…"

"So, he'll be…"

"Yes, he'll be ready to fight in a matter of days. I think, and don't hold me to this, they designed the people as such so that a fractured bone took a week. The broken one took a month. If normally deadly wounds could be contained, they would be ready to fight again. These creatures were designed to kill—and if he is anything to go by, I'd say the design worked quite well."

"Their fighting style certainly worked."

Desmond inhaled deeply, wrapping his legs around Rebecca's.

"I remember reading a journal once about their town. One of the scientists who lived there once wrote an entry regarding watching them fight. He described it as, 'a whirlwind of carnage and howling more chilling than the wolves as night. [He] watched them fall upon the enemy, and would liken it to the world before, as the Second World War must have been. Terror reigned in the enemy encampment, and there was no man safe from these fierce warriors. Had it not been for the uniforms our soldiers wore—bright yellow, a sore thumb—I now realize that they, too, would have been killed. Their mates and their kids, their fellow pack members, are the only ones safe.

'These men are animals. They are not human. If this is what happened during the Third World War, I pity the men who undertook these procedures. They were bred like cattle or birds, the strongest with the strongest, the weakest left for Mother Nature to weed out. But, hear me, even their "weakest" are strong enough to take on a squadron of men and live.

'What have we wrought? Curse our kind, so eager to learn. We have taken these lives and ruined them. I will suffer nightmares of the original experiments until my eyes close: I will beg God for forgiveness. They were pitiful as we tortured them. We took their lives.'"

There was silence for a little bit, then: "So, if we put Desmond, Altair, and Ezio in the front lines…"

He yawned and stretched, wincing at the pain in his ribs. He grunted, untangled himself from Rebecca, and got on his hands and knees in the bed before shaking like a dog to wake up. Disregarding the pain, he sat on his rump, looking around. Lucy and Shaun were sitting there, and Rebecca was beside him. He smiled at her.

"Morning, Des."

"Thank you for ruining my clothes, you idiot."

Desmond snarled at Shaun, who flinched in return. His attention snapped to Rebecca when he felt her place a hand on his leg.

"How ya feeling?"

He smiled again. "Sore."

She laughed. "I'm not surprised. The bullets got you pretty good."

He pulled at the hospital gown. It was itchy and irritating, and he wanted it off. Without thinking, he tugged it off, ripping the ties and letting it fall.

"Desmond!" Lucy cried.

He snarled. "It's itchy. I'm not wearing this."

"They want to keep you here overnight. Please just listen to them," Lucy asked.

"No. Tell them to leave me alone. I survived on my own for over ten years."

"How about if I get you something to read?" Shaun offered. "Something of value."

"No. Something of value is stupid."

"It is not," Shaun argued.

"Of course it is. Whatever you read is the same as shit."

Shaun scowled, and Rebecca twisted her lips. "Do you have those journals that you quoting from?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you bring me one? I'm gonna stay overnight here with him so he doesn't eat any of the doctors."

Shaun looked surprised. "Well, I suppose I can. Then Lucy and I can get the supplies for tomorrow."

He left the room, and Desmond curled against Rebecca. He was silent until Shaun returned and handed her a worn, leather novel.

"Here. I'll warn you: it's not a pleasant read."

"That's fine. I'll live."

Shaun nodded and turned to Lucy. "Let's go."

She rose. "We'll meet you at the ship tomorrow."

"You got it, Luce."

He blinked as they left and she cracked open the journal. When the doctors came in, he fought them horribly, but thanks to Rebecca, he didn't hurt them—too terribly, just enough to let them know he didn't want the tubes and the IVs stuck in him. Later that night, once the doctors had given up trying to get him to cooperate, he was nestled in with Rebecca.

"Dude, this is wack. Listen:

'The women have been upgraded now. We worked on enlarging the birth canals and increasing their hip size. They can now carry the babies for a year, ensuring a higher survival rate. We've been getting blasted for these changes, but so far, they've worked. When we breed the larger hipped women with the men, their children come out much more developed and learn much quicker.

'We've struck gold with these experiments. We have, however, hit a roadblock with the teeth. No matter which person we perform surgery on, their jaws just cannot support the jaw of a predator. We've tried twenty different times on all ages, and nothing seems to work. This will cause a large set back in creating the perfect beast.'"

She looked down at Desmond, who was staring at the wall.

"Did you know about this?"

Desmond nodded, yawning. "I thought everybody had undergone it. I was really surprised by the narrowness of women's hips after I escaped. And when I saw the enemies fight for the first time, I was confused."

His eyes slipped closed as she ran a hand through his hair. "Did you undergo any surgery?"

He shook his head slightly. "No, by the time they reached my father's generation, most of the enhancements were natural in the birthing process. My father and mother were put together to have children."

"That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not!" he snarled.

"Des, your parents should've been free to pick who they want!"

"They loved each other," he growled.

"It's not for us to breed you guys like animals."

"That's how it had to be," Desmond hissed, his fingers curling warningly into Rebecca's thigh.

"That's not how it had to be. I can't believe our Order did such things!"

He snarled. "They knew best!"

"Desmond!" He felt her pull his head back so he had to stare at her. "You're human! You deserve to live free!"

He snarled, getting up on his hands and knees to glare at her, growling. "We were free!"

"No, you weren't! Des, you should be able to love who you want! You shouldn't have to be forced to fight! To them, you were nothing more than cattle!"

"No, we weren't!"

She grabbed his face. "Des, what they did to you and your people? That's not right. They took your humanity from you."

"They did not!"

"Des, if they hadn't, you wouldn't have been so afraid of us. You should be able to fall in love and have babies with who you want, not who the Order says you have to."

"They picked the right person for us."

She ran a hand along his jaw. "Dessie, it doesn't matter if it was the 'right pick' for the stronger baby. Did you know who you were going to bred with?"

"Yes. And it was a good pick."

She gave him a "You're stupid" look. "Tell me, when you saw her, did it affect you here?"

She tapped where his heart was. He raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"

"It should have."

"Why?"

"It means you're in love."

"Why's that important?"

"Because it is. Being in love is what makes having children so wonderful."

"We have children to continue our lines."

"You should have children because you want to."

"It doesn't matter if we want to. We must."

"Dessie," she sighed, "being in love is one of the most wonderful feelings you could get. Everyone deserves the chance to have that feeling."

Desmond scoffed. "Have you ever felt it?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. And it's the most wonderful feeling ever."

He scoffed again. "Being in love is not important. You should bree—"

"Because you want to. Not because someone else says so. And you should have kids with who you want, because the prospect of having children is so much more enjoyable that way."

He scoffed. "What's so different about being in love?"

She grinned and tapped his nose before she poked his stomach, which jerked. "This area gets all tight when you see the person." She tapped his heart. "And this starts beating faster." She touched their noses together. "And you can't walk right, and your thoughts are consumed by the person, and you want to spend your every waking moment with them, and when they touch you, it's the best feeling ever. You do all kinds of things just to see them smile. Their happiness is important to you."

He frowned. "That sounds stupid."

"It's wonderful."

"And who have you fallen in love with? Lucy and Shaun?"

She grinned. "Nope."

"I thought you were sleeping with them."

"Of course. Well, not this month."

"Then why are you sleeping with them if you're not in love?" he asked mockingly, scowling.

"I am in love with them, but I didn't fall in love with them."

He was horribly confused. "What?"

"It was a love built by years of friendship and trust. I gradually came to love them. I didn't think 'falling in love' was possible."

"But you just said—"

"I fell in love with you," she said as she winked and kissed him.

He jerked back, and Rebecca laughed as he stared at her, wide-eyed. "Th-that's ridiculous."

"No, it's not. You're, like, the perfect package."

He jerked his head, sitting back. "The Order will tell me who I'm going to marry."

"The Order can't touch you."

"Of course they can. I'm allied with you, now."

She laughed and reached for him, grabbing his lower jaw, hooking her thumb behind his teeth, and shaking his head softly. He growled, tugging back on her hand gently with his teeth and shaking his head.

"They can't force you to do anything."

She pulled her hand free and cuffed his head gently, and he nipped at her arm.

"And they most certainly can't tell you who to love."

She held her arms open, and he moved forward, head butting her shoulder and curling in her arms.

"And they most certainly won't tell me that I can't love you."

He wasn't entirely sure what to think as she cracked open the journal again. He most certainly was not in love. Sure, he enjoyed Rebecca, and he enjoyed her company, but he was not "in love." If it was truly like she described, it would be a big weakness, and that went against everything Altair had taught him. He wouldn't be able to fight correctly.

"Hey," Rebecca said, "listen to this."

He looked at her briefly.

"'We're starting to get semi-worried. The people here have grown cold to us. They watch us, paranoid, from the corners, the streets, inside their shops. They are quick to snap at us. We cannot touch them. Few scientists can even get them to talk. It's become apparent we have estranged our biggest ally.

'We need to figure out a way to befriend them before they turn on us. Justin has gone missing. He had insulted the women here, calling them ugly compared to the ladies back home. I doubt we'll find him again. It's not safe for us at night. We bar the doors of reinforced steel, and still we listen to them howl at night, their snarls just outside the door. We need to get out, but the Order has yet to send transport.'

Did you really howl at night?" she asked.

"Not really howl—well, yeah. It was how we communicated at night. You couldn't tell us apart from the wolves. We played in the streets at night. Half of our lessons were then, to adjust the dark and learn to hunt. Sometimes, Altair would let a rabbit loose, and we'd have to find him six hours later."

"Are you serious?"

He nodded. "It was a lot of fun. Frustrating, but fun."

She was quiet for a moment. "What was the chick you were supposed to marry look like?"

He blinked. "She had black hair and brown eyes. Her family produced healthy, ideal children."

"It sounds terrible."

"Why? She would've given me strong, ideal children."

"Not necessarily," she murmured.

"Those babies would've been taken away for different care."

"What?"

He looked surprised. "They… were taken away to be properly taken care of."

"Don't tell me that bullshit! You don't honestly believe they're still alive!"

"Why not?"

He pressed his face against her neck. He could feel her blood heating up and her muscles tense. She wrapped her arms tighter around him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dessie, people like them, their version of 'taking care of' deformed babies isn't raising them."

"What do you mean?"

"They kill them. There's nothing—"

"They don't kill them. They assured us of that. They took one of my brothers."

"Des, have you seen him since then?"

"No, why? The Order was training him."

"He was killed, Dessie. I 'bet my bottom dollar.'"

"I don't think so. They promised he'd be treated well."

"They also said you couldn't marry who you want."

"So? It's to keep our bloodline strong, but now that's ruined 'cause we're all dead except me."

"No, Ezio and Altair are—"

"But there's none of our women left. Our bloodline will thin and disappear."

She was silent, then, "So? I mean: it's not cool your type will disappear, but people like you were never meant to exist anyway. Your ancestors were tortured, and you're living the life others tell you to. That's no way to live."

He was quiet as she continued to read. He wasn't sure when it happened, but eventually, he dozed off, waking occasionally through the night with the iron taste of blood on his tongue and the dull throb of his injuries in his bones. Night passed into morning with the pleasant dreams of killing. He wasn't going to lie: he enjoyed it. He yawned when he woke up, his injuries aching and protesting as he stretched out along Rebecca, who had fallen asleep reading the journal.

He sat up, watching her sleep. Her hair was all over the pillow, and she was drooling slightly, and Desmond couldn't help but smile slightly. She was pretty as she slept, even though most wouldn't say so. He sat there, watching her, until one of the nurses brought in food, and his snarling woke her.

"Des?"

He looked at her, giving the nurse enough time to set the food down and run. "Rebecca."

She smiled and yawned, stretching as she shifted, grabbing his hand. He tensed but didn't pull away. "I smell food."

He gestured to the tray. She sat up properly and picked up one of the sausage links. He smiled and tucked into the food as she did, and half an hour later, Shaun and Lucy walked in, looking as prim and proper as they usually did.

"Ready to go?" Shaun asked.

Desmond hopped out of the bed as he tossed him a shirt and pants.

"Try not to ruin these."

He snarled at him.

"And put these shoes on."

He eyed the shoes like a disease as he pulled on the clothes and stretched.

"We got a visit from da Vinci last night. He delivered your weapons," Lucy said.

"I don't need weapons. And I don't need shoes."

"Yes, Desmond, you need shoes. What are you, a tiny child?"

Desmond snarled at him. "I'll bite your feet off."

"Disgusting," Shaun said, but Desmond was pleased to see him back up a step, turning his feet inward.

Soon enough, though, he was out on the streets of the city again, the feeling of paranoia creeping up. He jumped when he felt Rebecca grab his hand.

"Relax, Des, you're going to be okay."

He growled softly, squeezing her hand and stepping closer. His eyes never held still as they walked through the streets, eventually entering into a small store, half hidden by all the tourist shops, positioned precisely for the residents who knew the city well.

"All rightie, Des, let's get going."

He looked at Rebecca. "Huh?"

"She means," Shaun said disapprovingly, "go find some decent clothes. We'll be right here."

"I'm going to help you," she said, grinning and winking.

Soon enough, he had picked out some tan pants and a black tee shirt. Rebecca insisted on something a little more expensive, and he shook his head, eyeing the black cloak in the corner. It's straps and buckles pulled the sleeves tight on the arms, and the cloak itself would brush his ankles if it fit. It zipped up the front and buckled for extra closure. There were pockets that buckled on the outside, and several on the inside that zipped (from the half what was pulled out for display). Its hood was curved and peaked in the front. He wanted that.

"Look, if you won't by something—"

"I want that." He pointed to the cloak.

"That'll draw a lot of att—"

"It'll hide me."

"What?"

"Look at it. It'll keep me hidden from eyesight. I like it."

She blinked, then walked over and looked at the price tag. She studied it then, shrugged and looked for one his size. She pulled one off the rack and brought it over.

"All right, then. Go try it on. If you're gonna help me, I'm gonna get you goggles. I'll get you a decent pair, all right?"

He nodded and walked into the dressing room, shimmying into the pants and shirt and pulling on the cloak. He pulled the buckles tight and did up the front before pulling the hood over his face and stepping out.

"My, don't you look imposing," one of the store workers said as they passed by.

He smirked. He liked the cloak, feeling it swish as he walked to find Rebecca. She was standing by the wall of goggles, leaning on the counter and talking to the person. He managed to sneak up behind her and place a hand on either side of her, leaning in close. He laughed when she jumped, spinning around to met by the hood.

"D-Dessie?"

He grinned.

"Geezus, you scared me."

"That's what I wanted."

"Well, I'm certainly never getting on your bad side, especially since I've seen how you fight. And if I'm ever walking down a dark alley? You're fucking coming with me. There's gonna be no one who'll touch me."

His grin grew, and she held up a pair of goggles. He pulled down the hood, tilting his head.

"These'll be yours."

He pulled them on, blinking as he looked around in the new set of bulky goggles. They looked like Rebecca's, but were brown leather and white fur instead of black. He pulled them onto his forehead and pulled the hood back up, and Rebecca started laughing, reaching up and tugging on the two lumps on his head.

"You look like you have horns, Dessie!"

He frowned, batting away her hands. "You make me feel less imposing calling me that."

"Daw, sorry Des, I can't help it. I just feel like I've got my own guardian now, and I've seen how cute you are when you sleep—you're just too handsome to think of you as an imposing black guardian."

Desmond scowled, pulling down the hood.

"Sorry, Dessie. Tear off the tags, and I'll pay for them. Go show Lucy and Shaun."

He did so and strolled off, flicking up the hood and hoping he could scare the crap out of them. He found them waiting outside near the window, and he jumped into the window, clawing at the window as he grinned just enough to show his teeth. Lucy jumped, a hand flying to her heart, and Shaun startled, backing off before scowling. He laughed. Rebecca came walking up shortly after as he laughed. He followed her out.

"Nothing but a child," Shaun spat.

Desmond grinned as he left the hood up, his eyes scanning the crowd nervously.

"All right, so we're ready to go?"

Lucy nodded, but Shaun stopped, frowning. "Desmond needs shoes, Rebecca."

"I do not," he growled. "Leave me alone."

Lucy frowned. "He's right. If you're attending the masquerade, you're going to—"

"I'm not wearing shoes. Leave me alone."

Rebecca pursed her lips. "Well, we could get him a pair, but I think he'll be in the shadows for the most part, so—oh, look, the candy store! Come on, Des, we need to get some more chocolate."

Desmond smirked: she was clearly avoiding the issue of shoes. She drug him into the small shop and he pulled down his hood in awe. There were dozens of containers filled with different types of candies.

"Go wild," Rebecca laughed as she walked to the counter to talk to the owner for the chocolate behind the counter.

Desmond stood there for a minute, looking around before walking off to the isles. A young lady appeared by his side.

"Hi! My name's Alicia. Rebecca told me it's your first time here, so let me tell you how it works: there's baskets by the door and little paper baggies throughout the isle. Each different type of candy goes in a different baggie. If you have any questions, ask me."

She winked and produced a basket from nowhere, hopping off to talk to Shaun and Lucy. He walked through each of the isles slowly, looking at everything before he started making his choices. The first thing he got were several of the root beer barrels he had tried, and then the lemon candies, a handful of honey spoons (those had been his one treat back home, and he loved them), and some little sour balls. Rebecca appeared by his side.

"That's it? Get some other things, too. You gotta find your favorite candy. Lucy's assembling her favorites, and Shaun's picking out his gummies."

He blinked. "You don't mind?"

"No, go ahead. I'm gonna go wait for my chocolate."

He watched her walk off, his eyes glued to her hips. They weren't nearly as wide as the women back home, none of them were, but he had to admit they were attractive. Once she disappeared around the corner, he snapped from the trance and kept looking. The next things to join the small assortment were vanilla taffy, candy cigarettes, and something called a jaw breaker—which Desmond saw as a personal challenge. The basket had six little striped baggies.

"Desmond!" he heard Shaun call, and he peeked over the isle. "Come here!"

He slinked over to him, keeping a safe distance until Shaun beckoned him closer.

"If you're going to try different candies, let me suggest these—the Swedish fish and the peach rings."

"Swedish fish?" he asked, creeping closer slowly. Shaun all ready had two small baggies of them.

"It's a recipe from the world before ours. I think Swedish refers to a race of people."

He looked at the red fish-shaped gummies and the small peach rings. He hadn't realized how close he had gotten to Shaun until he felt a hand touch his shoulder, and he jumped.

"And if I may suggest as well, I think you should try the taffy. The vanilla taffy here is world-renown."

He blinked. "I got some."

Shaun smirked and pushed his glasses up his nose. "A man of good taste, I see. Perhaps I was wrong about you. The butter rum and caramel apple are also good. I think you'll enjoy them."

He smiled. "I'll get some of those, too."

"A good lad. Off with you, then. Go get them. And don't listen to Lucy. The licorice here is terribly disgusting. Wait until we land in Manan to get that. And wait for Iyil to get ribbon candy."

He grinned. "All right."

He bounced off to the taffy counter again, getting the two other types of taffy, as well as mango, cherry, chocolate, and Cola.

"A man after my own heart, I see."

He jumped when he heard Shaun's voice from behind him and scowled at the smirk.

"Taffy has always been one of my favorites. Between those and gummies, I'm not entirely sure which are better."

He blinked, then grinned. "It looks good."

"You'd better take my advice: once you have taffy from Shuar Usa, you'll never enjoy any other. You'll be hooked, boy."

He chuckled. "I'll look forward to it."

Lucy came walking up beside Shaun, holding a small basket, and two small baggies.

"All ready infected him, I see," she murmured. She held out the two baggies. "Here, take these."

"What are they?"

"It's rock candy and peppermint. Much better than taffy and whatever else Shaun's infected you with."

He took them gently, and Shaun wrapped a hand around his wrist. "Oh no, I don't think so, Lucy. I'll not be having you tainting him with your tasteless choices in candy."

Lucy huffed, puffing up and taking the candy from him as Shaun released his wrist. She put the candy bags in his basket.

"Tainting? I'd hardly call it that, Shaun. You eat all that nasty chewy stuff all the time. Hard candies are so much nicer."

"That rock candy of yours has string in it. How is that worse than a chewy piece of taffy?"

"You always get it caught in your teeth. Desmond, don't listen to him. Take mine. You'll like them better."

"Bollocks. Your candy choices are disgusting."

"No, I think they're rather good. And I'm sure Desmond will agree once he tastes them."

"Most certainly he will not."

"He will too—"

"Ready to check out, Des?"

He smiled at Rebecca as the other two continued their squabble. Rebecca rolled her eyes when she noticed them, and whispered, "Neither of them are right, you know. The hot candies? They're the best. And so is the chocolate."

She plopped her candy down, wrapped in a box instead of a bag, and let the man at the counter ring up his candy and hers. She grinned, putting a small box in his big brown bag of candies.

"Some chocolates for you to try—"

"Oh, not you, too," Shaun said, scowling. "Your taste in chocolate is vile."

"I'm with Shaun on this one, 'Becca."

Rebecca huffed. "I think it's just fine. And I'm sure you didn't think it was terrible when you started and ate half of it like the pig you are, Luce."

Lucy looked scandalized. "I only ate it because it was the only chocolate on board."

Rebecca laughed. "Right. I bet you've finished the other chocolates I had, hm?"

Lucy blushed, and Desmond laughed. "I-I did not!"

Shaun frowned and looked at her. "I wondered where those extra pounds were coming from."

"Shaun!" Lucy shrieked.

"That's what you get for kicking me out of bed for the past month," Rebecca retorted, putting her hands on her hips.

Desmond had opened the bag of lemon candies and popped one in his mouth. "Guys, shouldn't we head back to the ship?"

They stopped and looked at him before Shaun huffed and stepped forward to pay for his candy. "I suppose you're right, Desmond. If only the girls weren't so argumentative."

"Me, argumentative? Oh, you've got it all backwards, Hastings."

"Oo," Shaun rolled his eyes, "you broke out the last name. I'm quaking in my shoes, Lucy."

Lucy scoffed. "You're a real ass, Shaun."

Shaun looked at her and tipped his hat. "I try my best, love."

She rolled her eyes. They were silent as they walked back to the ship, Shaun and Lucy in the front, and Desmond with his hood up trailing behind Rebecca.

"So which one did you try first?"

"The lemon candy."

"And?"

"I like it."

She smiled at him. "Awesome. Although, I'm sure you'll find the chocolates the best."

Desmond struggle to keep a straight face at the dirty glare Shaun and Lucy sent her, grateful they couldn't see his eyes twinkling with mirth. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Eh, we'll see."

Shaun muttered under his breath, "If he has any sense about him, his favorite will be the—"

"Peppermint," Lucy butted in, her head held high and a confident smile on her lips.

Desmond was beginning to enjoy being with these guys. They were growing on him.

When they got back to the ship, Desmond yelped as he was tackled. Growling, he bit down on the nearest patch of flesh as his ribs screamed in protest. The result was a hand in his stomach and his arms above his head, a vaguely reminiscent head of hair in his face.

"Ezio!"

He growled playfully and squirmed free, getting the man in the gut. They rolled around, nipping and biting, pushing and pulling as they rolled around on the wooden floors.

"Ezio! He's injured!"

"Desmond!"

Desmond stopped, Ezio on top of him with an arm around his neck and him biting Ezio's ear. There was a blonde standing there, hands on his hips. He was dressed in a doctor's outfit, looking at them with a frown. He let go of Ezio's ear and sat Indian-style. They touched noses briefly in an Eskimo kiss. Then, Ezio curled around him, and he leaned against him, stretching his legs out. Ezio moved to rest his head on his legs, and Desmond leaned back on his legs.

He touched Ezio's knee, looking at him. –I didn't know you lived.-

A kiss to his calf. –I'm here, though.-

Desmond moved so it looked like they were spooning. –Miss you.-

A soft stroke on his stomach. –You and I are all that's left now.-

He let his eyes settle on the others.

"I don't get it. They were just wrestling, and now their cuddling?" Lucy said.

The man frowned, sitting on one of the chairs brought out. "Well, they are related. I do believe Ezio is his uncle."

"Seriously?" Rebecca shouted. "He doesn't look much older than Dessie!"

"It was his older brother who married first."

"So?"

Ezio pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. –Missed you.-

He looked back at his uncle. –Missed you, too.-

Ezio smiled softly, wrapping his arm around him. He chuckled and ran a finger over his beard. –You look older.-

-I certainly feel older.-

"They look almost exactly alike."

"That's actually creepy. I'd prefer not to think of them as lov—"

"Shaun, they're not lovers."

Desmond shifted against him to look at Rebecca. Ezio raised an eyebrow. When he grinned in response, Ezio grinned, nipping his ear gently. He pushed playfully at his stomach, and his uncle scoffed, pushing back. Desmond growled and sat up, pouncing on him, and soon, they were rolling on the deck of the airship again.

"Ezio!" the blonde man shrieked when they ran into one of the chairs, and his uncle startled, giving Desmond time to pin him on his back.

"And how do you know that they aren't lovers?" Shaun asked.

"Because I'm his lover."

"You're our lover."

"I'm his lover. I'm sick of being on the couch."

Ezio growled and flipped them over.

"You realize neither of them have said a word yet?" Lucy mentioned.

Desmond winced when his ribs were jostled.

"Yo, Dessie, you can still talk, yeah?"

Desmond looked at Rebecca as Ezio climbed off him and sat. He sat up and moved beside him.

"Yeah… We were just playing."

"That was not playing," Shaun murmured, and Desmond scowled.

"So says the gangly human," Ezio said with a shrug.

Desmond laughed.

"Ezio," the blonde said, exasperated.

"Leonardo," Ezio copied. "Leonardo, meet Desmond. He was Federico's kid. I ran after he did at the command of his mother."

"Yes, I assumed so from Shaun's description. Have you seen the weapons yet?"

"I don't need weapons," he growled, his hostility coming back.

"Ah, my nephew, you do! Look, look—the man is a genius!"

He looked as Ezio held out his foot, a strange contraption attached. It crisscrossed over the foot and when he reached down to press a small button, he startled when claws whizzed out over his toes and one on his heel. He pulled up his sleeves to reveal another such contraption on his hands.

"They make fighting so much easier. I don't know how often you fight, but Leonardo is always heckled and harassed. You should try them!"

"He doesn't need them," Shaun said, frowning.

Desmond looked at him. "What?"

"If your previous fighting is anything to go by, you certainly don't need anything else to make you deadlier."

He laughed. "Where are they?"

"In your room," Lucy murmured.

Desmond hopped up and ran into the ship. There was a small package on his bed, and he tore it open. Ezio came strolling in.

"My nephew, you have grown so much."

"I'm not the one sporting a beard. And your hair has gotten so long!"

He grinned as his uncle sat on his bed. "I haven't seen you since you were sixteen. I've spent the past ten years looking for you."

"I was good at hiding."

"Leonardo had just about given up."

"Who is he, anyway?"

"Leonardo?"

Desmond nodded as he picked up the contraption and let his uncle help him put it on.

"He is a medical officer for the Borgias, as well as an inventor for the Resistance."

"He's a spy?"

He winced when Ezio pinched him with a buckle.

"Yes. And you should've seen the uproar when the Borgias thought they had me as one of their soldiers."

He chuckled. "I bet they were happy."

"Indeed."

"So what's with this masquerade thing?"

"Ah, yes, so you are going?"

"I don't know."

"You are going."

"Okay, I am going."

Ezio laughed, and he found himself grinning.

"The Borgias and Robert de Stable, or whatever his name is, and all of his followers will be there. Our job is to perform Recon, and kill them if possible."

"Won't they recognize you and I?"

Ezio chuckled. "We will be in the shadows, watching for a trap. Altair will be there, too, I hear, if the rumors are true."

"He's ancient."

Ezio laughed. "He's not too much older than us. He was taken in by a man named Malik and his wife, Maria."

"Really?"

"Which brings me to another point—hand me the other arm claw, would you?"

He did as he was told.

"Rebecca, she's your lover, you said?"

He pulled back, frowning. "She said. I wasn't aware of this."

Ezio chuckled. "Well, let me warn you. Be careful of your strength. These… humans are not adequately equipped to handle our strength as our women were."

"What do you mean?"

Ezio paused, staring at the contraption. He sighed. "Their bones are brittle compared to ours."

"Huh?"

He looked up at him, a serious look in his eyes. "I have broken many of Leonardo's bones from instincts."

"Wha-at?" He jerked back.

"I have broken several of Leonardo's bones by him just waking me with a push to the shoulder."

Desmond shook his head. "Wh-what?"

Ezio frowned. "Animals, we are animals, Desmond. If we lose track of ourselves, we will hurt them. Remember, we were born and bred to kill."

He was silent for a bit as he wiggled his toes in the contraption. "Ezio, did Caterina…"

"Ah, no, my nephew. She did not make it out. She was killed when I left to run a message to the Order."

He looked at his lap. "I… she was really nice."

"And… Emiliano?"

Ezio smiled softly. "I had him strapped to my back for my message running. He is safe with Leonardo's assistants. If only she had lived, we would have produced many strong children."

"Rebecca called the Order stupid for picking our wives for us."

Ezio raised an eyebrow as he ripped open the second package. "Why? It was good for us. We had mates who could withstand what we could give." Ezio purred. "And she could definitely take it."

"She said that we should pick our own mates."

Ezio raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"She said that we should fall in love."

Ezio scoffed. "That is ridiculous. We should breed to build stronger children."

"It is so not ridiculous. Just because you two are blind, doesn't mean the rest of us are."

They looked to the entrance of his room to see Rebecca leaning on the doorframe. "And what do you mean by saying that I can't handle whatever he does?"

Ezio scowled. "Genetically, we have been mutated to be stronger and sturdier."

"And this doesn't bother you? You should be outraged they've taken your life from you!"

"Why? I was happy with my child and my wife. I have my nephew here—"

"That's not what I mean!" Rebecca said, walking in and plopping on the bed. "Aren't you upset that you didn't get to pick who you had kids with? Aren't you upset that you harm your friends when you touch them? You didn't have the chance to say, 'No, I don't want these upgrades.' You were bred. Like a cow. Or a chicken. You didn't get to say, 'I want to be a normal human.' And now you're all dead, sacrificed like lambs at an altar for some ridiculous war, and you claim you can't even have sex with a normal human because you're too strong? Doesn't that irk you a little bit?"

"I never said that," Ezio growled. "I said he must be careful. Listen, young lady, or you will not do well on the battlefield."

"Don't you ever think about living a life outside of blood and death?"

Ezio snarled, and Desmond raised an eyebrow, looking at his uncle. "We've never had a chance, have we?"

"No," Ezio growled. "We have been raised to kill. Having a family or taking a lover is secondary for us, so the Order picks for us."

"That's stupid."

Ezio rose, snarling, "Then why did you not speak out against such crimes? Why did you not raise a fuss? I know that you know that we were under attack. I know that you know that we weren't human. Why did you not come to our defense? Perhaps if you did, my wife and brothers would still be alive!"

Rebecca was shocked into silence. Ezio snarled at her and settled back down on the bed.

"How dare you insult us and our way of life when you did not come to our aid."

Desmond stood up, claws out as he tried the weapon.

"Stand on your toes. It helps."


	4. Chapter 4

Rebecca watched silently for a moment before rising. "Right, Des, if you wanna help me, I'm gonna navigate Baby to get Malik and the others. Otherwise, I'll let you practice with your new weapons."

Desmond nodded absently. Over the next few days, he practiced fighting with Ezio on the deck of the ship. It quickly devolved into just the two of them—wrestling, fighting, sleeping. It didn't matter what it was, but after ten years without a familiar companion, Desmond was glad to have his uncle back. Ezio didn't seem to mind the attention, and they would often curl together in the engine room where it was warm and doze off.

A couple days later, they were lying on the floor of Lucy's room, Desmond chewing on a piece of taffy with Ezio occasionally laughing at him as it got stuck in his teeth. Lucy was tucked into the bed, writing in a notebook and occasionally glancing at them. He and his uncle didn't need to speak with another in the room—their touches, their looks, they communicated without words. It was part of what they learned back at home.

It was even nicer his injuries were cleaning up nicely. There wasn't much pain at all now—more from sparring with Ezio on the ship, and the bandages had come off. He could stretch without pain in his side, and he was almost back up to par.

Shaun came strolling in, unbuttoning his shirt. Since they hadn't needed to land, he wasn't nearly dressed as usual. He sat on the bed and placed a hand on Lucy's thigh. She smiled and leaned in, giving him a peck on the lips. Desmond watched the exchange curiously.

"What are you eating, Desmond?" Shaun asked as he pulled Lucy into his lap.

Desmond tilted his head. He hadn't seen his father do that—his kisses were always hungry, passionate. He knew Ezio hadn't done that either. Kissing just briefly seemed odd, but they were warriors, so cuddling and sharing warmth was understandable.

"The mango taffy," he attempted to say around the sweet treat.

Shaun chuckled—Desmond wondered what had put in him such a good mood. "Can I have a piece, mate?"

Desmond raised an eyebrow, but reached around Ezio and grabbed a piece from his baggie before tossing it to him.

"Thanks, love," he said as he opened it and popped it into his mouth.

He didn't quite know what to think about that. Shaun was in an extraordinary mood. He watched Lucy and Shaun curiously as they lie there. He was watching Lucy write, occasionally offering advice, or exchanging a quick kiss here or there. The touching, he was used to seeing. There weren't many physical boundaries he had seen a home—he hadn't exactly paid much attention to the others after he fled. Their kisses didn't seem hungry: they didn't seem like they needed to fuck. He watched them well until they turned out the light and fell asleep, and he and Ezio slipped out.

"I think I'm gonna crash with Rebecca tonight," he muttered.

"Why?" Ezio asked.

"I've got some questions for her," he said as he smiled.

They said goodnight, and he crept into Rebecca's room. She was in her underwear and bra, jamming away to some tune playing on a radio. When she noticed him, she stopped, smiled, and turned down the music.

"Hey, Des! I haven't seen you for a while. I miss you in the control room."

He hopped on her bed, his feet bumping the footboard and making an odd noise when the weapons hit the metal. "I got a question for you."

She looked curious and walked over, flopping down beside him. "Sure. Shoot."

"I don't get it—why did Shaun do that?"

He caught the look of pride in her features, making him even more confused.

"What do you mean, Dessie?"

"He just… kissed Lucy."

"Yeah, and?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"What?"

She sighed and propped herself up on her elbows. "Des, they're in love. Why wouldn't they kiss?"

"They didn't even fuck."

"You don't have to fuck if you kiss."

"Why kiss if you don't?"

"Because they love each other. I gave Shaun a goodnight kiss 'cause I love him."

He blinked and settled on his stomach on her bed. "I don't understand."

She laughed and rolled on top of him. "Your parents never kissed like that because they were never in love as we are."

"What?"

She kissed his cheek. He shrank from the touch as he exhaled loudly. His stomach was playing games with him. "When you love somebody, you just want to show them how much you enjoy them. You do all the cutesy things like hold hands, cuddle, kiss without lustful intentions."

"Why would you do that? A partner is supposed to bear children."

"Not necessarily. A partner is supposed to love you."

She kissed his cheek again, and he squirmed. He did, actually, enjoy it a little. She was laughing on top of him, and he growled playfully, rolling over and smirking as she yelped. He wrapped his hands around her waist to keep her pinned. He growled playfully again.

"Why were you laughing?"

"You're just the best thing since sliced bread, duh."

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward. He moved his head up to brush their noses, something his mother had done. Rebecca smiled softly and rubbed their noses together.

"That's an Eskimo kiss."

"What? That sounds stupid."

"That's what it's called!"

"That was a sign of trust among the others back home."

"You know: when you first arrived, you seemed like you didn't remember anything about your home life."

"It's slowly coming back. It just seems familiar to me."

"Like Eskimo kisses."

He rolled his eyes. "Like Eskimo kisses."

She hummed, tapping her chin. Desmond studied her, enjoying the weight of her body against his and the feel of their skin touching. He rubbed small circles against her hipbones just to feel it. She was bone-thin compared to the women back at home, but he liked the way her skin was stretched out over her frame, long and lithe. He liked her black hair and her bright blue eyes. There was definitely something enjoyable about Rebecca. He tensed when she leaned forward again, touching their noses.

"You trust me enough to let me do that, hm?"

He nodded, his breath hitching when she tilted her head and pressed their lips together for a brief moment.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He wasn't going to lie: he loved it. He loved it a lot. She was close enough he leaned up and pressed their lips together a second time, a third time, and even a fourth time before she laughed and met his lips on the fifth. He grinned when she pulled back. He liked those kisses that served no purpose whatsoever.

"I'm going to take that as a 'no.'"

"Good idea."

He stared at Rebecca, who was smiling, her legs kicking in the air on top of him.

"So, what did Ezio mean when he said genetically I couldn't handle your strength?"

He squeezed her hips, and she winced. "Back at home, they made us take these pills from the time we were ten to the time we were fifteen. They helped reinforce our bones, I think, because around there we started any serious strength training."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I had just graduated when I was shipped out. I would've been fighting in the front lines if it weren't for my mom."

Rebecca leaned in and kissed him again. He smiled.

"I'm glad. You're here. You know—I won't be on the couch anymore after tonight."

He tilted his head.

"You should come join me in Lucy's bed."

He pulled back a little, but she leaned in and touched their noses together. He growled slightly at what she was asking him.

"We don't have to do any raunchy bedtime activities. We can cuddle."

He made a low whining sound, but Rebecca rubbed their noses together.

"Come on, Dessie. For me?"

He was silent, staring at her for a minute before pursing his lips. "I'll think about it?"

She smiled, kissing him again. "Awesome. I'll look forward to it."

"I-I didn't say yes!"

She winked and wrestled one of the blankets up around them. "So? You'll come. I know you will."

He scowled. "Maybe I'll stay with Ezio just to spite you."

She laughed and scooted down to lay her head on his chest. He watched her as she turned out the light and drifted off to sleep. He wasn't entirely sure what to think. When morning rolled around, he found her snuggled against him, her breath warm against his neck. Desmond curled around her, holding her tightly, his mind still hazy from waking. He was certainly enjoying this, even if he had gotten used to cuddling and whatnot from training (nights in the desert were fucking cold).

His stomach was tight as he watched her sleep. He really enjoyed being with her. She yawned and stretched out along him, murmuring something as she kissed his skin. He smiled, his heart fluttering. She looked at him, blinking.

"Mornin' Dessie."

He smiled. "Morning."

"We should get there today."

He hummed, leaning in for a kiss. She smiled and kissed him, drawing up the covers farther around her shoulders. He smiled at her and rolled them over, kissing her again. She made a muffled noise, but seemed to relax into the kiss, letting go of the covers to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Pleasant surprise."

He grinned, kissing her again. She hummed, pressing his head closer and licking his lip. It quickly evolved into a wet, open mouthed, sloppy kiss as he trailed his hands up her sides and over her breasts, feeling desire pool in his belly at the breathless gasp he got. He growled softly and unhooked her bra, nipping to her jaw.

"Let me see just how animalistic you are."

He snapped, and it wasn't until he had her on her hands and knees, a tight grip on her hips as he set a brutal pace, that he even registered perhaps she was in pain. She moaned when he bit the skin on her neck, and he growled, tensing, his fingers digging into her skin as he released. He heard his name somewhere in there as Rebecca found release, and his hips twitched as he rode out his orgasm. He forced himself to let go of her as she collapsed, turning tiredly around to look at him. He felt incredible. He licked his lips as he sat back and watched her wince when she moved her hips.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"Sorry?" she groaned. "Fuck, man. I feel like I got run over. Damn."

"I'm really sorry. I tried to follow what Ezio said."

"You shouldn't be sorry, that was great. Totally worth it. Damn," she groaned, "I'm gonna have bruises all over my hips."

"I'm sorry, Reb—"

"No, man. Don't tell Shaun, but I'm a bit of a masochist. Lucy's somewhat sensitive. Stupid fluffy clothes are seeping into her skin."

"Isn't she a good fighter, though?"

"Well, duh." Rebecca winced as she shifted, and Desmond grimaced, moving to sit beside her. "Shit, that was good."

He shook his head.

"I wonder if letting you fuck me counts as bestiality."

He laughed.

"God…"

There was a knock at the door. "Rebecca. We need you to land it."

She groaned. "Damnit, Shaun."

"What today? I gave you time to sleep in."

"I just got brutally fucked. Des is gonna have to carry me."

"Just what did he do? Bloody animal."

"Don't go dissing him, prissy boy. He was better in bed then you are, and he was a virgin."

"I can't help it if you prefer to sleep with Neanderthals with a good taste in candy."

"I think you should let him fuck you, Shaun. Des, can you get me a shirt?"

Desmond moved from the bed to do what she asked.

"He could push that pole up your ass out your mouth."

He could practically hear Shaun roll his eyes.

"I'll remember that, Rebecca, in case I ever feel like going in the red light district."

He tossed her shirt and pants.

"Come on, Shaun, I know you like getting a little wild sometimes."

"Do you need the shower?"

"It's not as messy as gay sex, Shaun. Not all of us are as anal as you about being clean. 'Sides, we're both just gonna get dirty landing Baby."

"That's disgusting."

"You're disgusting."

Shaun sighed, but Desmond could hear him walk away.

"Grab the towel in the bathroom and wet it down if you want to clean off. I'm not too terribly concerned about being dirty. I get oil all over the place sometimes."

He dressed quickly, slipping his pants and shirt over Leonardo's contraptions. He threw open the trapdoor that led to the control room. He followed Rebecca's orders without complaint, still feeling guilty about hurting her. He was all over the place as he cranked levers and oiled knobs so he could land it. Their plane was old. The landing was shaky, but Rebecca complimented him anyway when he climbed back out.

"Thanks, Dessie. Can ya help me out to meet Maria? You'll like her. She's a little rough, but she gets dirty."

He smiled and scooped her up, laughing when she yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What happened to your injuries?"

"Huh? Oh, they still hurt a little, but I haven't been paying attention."

"Haven't been paying attention? Dude, they're cuts on your skin and bruised ribs."

"Yeah, I'm cool. They don't hurt nearly as bad as when I broke my leg out training 'cause my partner ran."

"Really?"

"I had to carry myself home. From the desert. It sucked. Turns out, that wasn't the first time he had run, so the Order took him away."

"Really?"

"Yup. They put him to work somewhere else."

"In the graveyard," Rebecca said. "Hey, there's some painkillers in Lucy's bathroom. Let's stop there real quick."

He pushed open the door with his feet and set her gently on the bed, fetching the painkillers and giving her some. She popped them back; he put the bottle away, and then he carried her out to the deck where everyone else was. Ezio raised an eyebrow, and he looked away sheepishly.

"What's up, you two! Long time no see!"

The one-armed man raised an eyebrow. "And just why is he carrying you?"

"Your Farm-bred human murder machine doesn't? You haven't been training him enough: you're slackin', Malik."

He scowled. "We've been busy trying to keep him from our newest child. He seems to think that he's actually good enough—"

Desmond snarled, and Ezio growled. "Watch what you say."

Malik scoffed, eyeing them critically. "I see you brutes are just as bad."

"Aw, you're coming down awful hard on them," Rebecca said.

Lucy shook her head. "It's not like they can help it, Malik."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Maria, go check on the baby. We've been away long enough he's probably gotten to the crib."

"Can we see?" Ezio asked.

Maria sighed and gestured for them to follow. Rebecca squirmed from his grip, and Desmond jogged off behind them, leaving the three smart people, Lucy, and Rebecca to talk. He walked beside Ezio into the quaint little house in the middle of nowhere, and she led them through the kitchen and up the stairs to a small room. There was a crib in the middle of it, and Altair sat, in a pair of canvas pants, in the rocker with a small bundle in his arm. The bundle was quiet, occasionally making a soft gurgling noise as Altair rocked it. He was practically beaming.

"Altair," Maria said, folding her arms.

Altair looked up, scowling and beginning to wrap his arm tighter around the child.

"Ah—stop. Altair," she growled.

The child whimpered, and he looked down at the bundle. He held a finger to the head of the bundle, and Desmond crept closer to peek at the small, pink baby holding onto Altair's finger. Its bright brown eyes blinked at him, and he smiled. Altair leaned forward, touching noses with him. Desmond smiled and looked at the baby again as it watched them. He held a finger out, lightly tracing its cheek. He felt Ezio beside him. The baby gurgled, pulling Altair's finger into its mouth to suck on it, and Desmond laughed quietly.

"Altair, let me have Darim."

He snarled, and Desmond looked to the woman. "Can I hold him?"

"We don't let any animal hold our children in case they kill them."

The baby started babbling, holding onto Altair's finger.

"A strong child," Ezio murmured, smiling.

"Darim will no doubt be a good addition to our legacy."

"Well," Maria said as she shoved Ezio and Desmond out of the way, "there won't be a legacy if you don't give him back to me. He needs to nurse and stop sucking on your finger. Give me Darim. Go play with your animal friends."

Ezio snarled, and Altair slowly handed the baby over to Maria. She sighed as she took it.

"You three go kill babies elsewhere."

"It's not our fault you're so weak," Altair murmured, gesturing Desmond and Ezio out. He led them back out the ship.

"So you are the infamous Altair!" Leonardo said, rising for a hug.

Ezio stepped between them. "Leonardo."

"Right, right, my apologies, Altair. I do enjoy hugging."

Desmond perched on the railings by Rebecca. She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

Shaun was on his other side, and Lucy on Rebecca's. Malik and Leonardo sat across from them, and Ezio sat at Leonardo's feet, leaning against his legs and letting his head fall into Leonardo's lap. Leonardo smiled, running his hands through his long hair.

"How have you been, Desmond?"

Desmond smiled at his old mentor. "I've been doing better since these guys found me."

"Heaven knows we've had enough problems with him. You'd better be doing better."

Desmond grinned.

"You haven't been slacking off in your training?"

"Well, it took a couple of days with Ezio to really remember everything. I didn't fight much on the run. I just… ran."

"He is quick: we were training with Leonardo's new weapons."

Altair raised an eyebrow, and Desmond stuck a foot out, letting the claws unsheathe and laughing when Shaun jumped.

"Bloody Hell."

"He was always quick to learn back home."

Desmond smiled, pulling his foot back.

"When are we leaving? The masquerade is in a week."

"We'll leave soon enough," Rebecca said. "I take it Maria's not coming, then?"

Malik shook his head as Altair hopped onto the railing and crawled over to Desmond, perching beside him. Shaun shifted, looking back to give Altair an once-over, distrusting and almost afraid. Altair curled his lip as he was analyzed, causing Shaun to pull back and settle in his chair uncomfortably. They sat there, listening as the others talked about whatever they were going to do.

"What about the beasts?" Malik said.

"Well, we were thinking of letting them remain hidden as a back-up in case we get caught. Heavens know there'll be enough security there we could use some extra manpower if all goes to shit," Shaun said.

Desmond yawned. These people were boring. He met Ezio's gaze and grinned, and the two walked into the open area in front of the Al-Sayf house, growling playfully as they began sparring. He could feel Altair watching him as they fought, and the hours passed quickly until it was nighttime, and the others were saying goodnight.

Rebecca shouted they were leaving in the morning, and Malik warned Altair not to run away because he hadn't put his collar on, and that left the three of them alone. Desmond paused from fighting Ezio, smiling at him. He grinned in response.

-Let's get him.-


	5. Chapter 5

They crept, making no noise as they walked back to the deck. They moved like shadows to see Altair standing there, his back turned and the white in his clothes shining in the moonlight as he stared at the closed door. He turned a fraction of an inch, smirking, a teasing glint in the corner of the eye that Desmond had gotten so used to seeing. He moved forward a step, hunched low with a soft whine, submissive, and Altair turned around fully, holding his arms out. Desmond grinned and moved into his arms, feeling the strength as Altair hugged him.

He rubbed his cheek against his chest, and Altair moved one hand to cup his head, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. -You lived.-

A whine. –So did you.-

Tightened arm around the waist. –I was worried.-

A growl. –You taught me.-

A breathless chuckle. –So?-

A soft smile. –Of course I'd live.-

They stood like that for a while, silent, a black and white figure in the dark of the night. Ezio crawled close on the railings. –You look well.-

Altair pressed his cheek to Desmond's head to look at him. –So do you.-

A frown. –Any others?-

Back to kissing his head. –No.-

After a few more moments, Altair looked out to open fields by their house, smirking. –Hunt?-

Desmond grinned and pulled away. –Game on.-

He leapt over the railings and took off running. A howl behind him. –Left.-

He leapt onto the house, scrabbling over it. –Above.-

Ezio's return howl. –Right.-

The wind rushed through his hair as he leapt from the house, making no noise as he landed and howled. –Center.-

His eyes searched for a rabbit hole as he crouched low to the ground, his fingers sweeping the ground as he moved. There was no sound from the three killers as they searched. A hole, the scent of warm rabbit—he snarled and fell on top of it, his fingers digging into the dirt around the opening. A screech. –Here.-

Two more bodies as the dirt flew, and a furry streak rushed past. Three howls and three moving shadows. –The chase is on.-

They followed it closely, stopping its zig-zag, surrounding it with a sprint. Ezio to the right, Altair to the left, closing it on the small warm body, the hunt pounded in their veins, sang in their ears. Desmond surged forward, snarling as he dipped low and caught the rabbit in his teeth, falling and rolling and making a dust cloud as the rabbit kicked and thrashed, and his growl filled the night.

And like that, the rabbit was gone, and he was snapping at Altair, who had taken it from him. Ezio tackled him, wrestling the warm, furry body from his jaws, and Desmond swooped in, pulling the bleeding carcass from his packmates and smirking as he sprinted off. There was a snarl from behind him, and he snarled around the fur when he was tackled. He spat out the fur when the rabbit was ripped from his mouth as he wrestled with Ezio to get it back, only to have Altair steal it from both of them—leave it to the master.

And he didn't know when, but eventually, they fell asleep curled up with one another as the moon fell, the carcass of the rabbit shredded from their wrestling. They slept soundly under the moonlight in the coarse grass.

Desmond woke first, untangling his head to peek around his surroundings. The carcass of the rabbit still sat there, the squawking of the crows causing him to search for a rock to throw at them. They fluttered off briefly but came back, and Desmond draped himself across Altair, staring lazily at the house in the distance as he fell into an early morning trance. He yawned, watching someone come walking toward them. As it drew closer, the person looked vaguely like the one-armed man. Ezio stirred next when the kid was within a stone's throw, and Altair stirred last as the child came over, a thumb in his mouth. The child poked the eldest in the head, and he growled softly, looking up.

"Tazim." His voice was thick and rough, groggy with sleep and slightly confused.

The boy pointed at the house. "Darim. Mama."

Altair's brow furrowed, and they untangled slowly. "What?"

"Darim." The child gnashed his teeth, and Altair rubbed an eye across his face, stumbling off.

Desmond and Ezio followed afterward, and Desmond stopped when he felt Tazim tug on his pant leg.

"Carry?"

He grinned and scooped the child up, throwing him in the air and swinging him around his body like a professional dancer, listening to the shrieks of happiness. He tossed him up once more before settling him on his shoulders. Ezio laughed, walking over and patting him on the back.

"Too bad you did not marry your mate—you would have made a good father."

Desmond smiled. "I was looking forward to it."

They followed him inside, Tazim slipping down to walk beside them as Altair led them up to the baby's room. They could hear the baby wailing, and when they walked in, they found all six of the others there, trying to calm the baby. Altair snarled, pushing through them.

"Altair?" Maria asked, sounding exhausted.

He snatched the baby, pointedly ignoring the protests as he sat down and set the baby on the wood floor. Ezio squatted beside him, and Desmond joined them when gestured. Altair cuffed his ear in a familiar gesture of "Pay Attention," and Desmond watched as Altair rubbed his eyes and unwrapped the baby, giving him a thorough check over before Ezio stuck a finger inside the baby's mouth and rubbed it against the jaws before making a soft noise to tell him nothing was wrong there.

With a soft growl, Ezio flopped down on one side of the baby. Altair leaned forward, resting his head above the baby and pressing down lightly on it with his chest, his legs out on either side of the baby. When Altair looked at Desmond, the younger sniffed and lay across his back, earning a pleased grunt from his mentor.

"Altair!" Malik growled. "Get off Darim!"

Altair snarled, despite being folded in two, and started growling softly. Ezio grabbed Desmond's hand, holding it softly as he fell asleep again. Despite the racket from the others, the baby slowly quieted with the soft rumbling from Altair.

"Remember this, Desmond," Ezio murmured: it was clear he was fading quickly. "Even our young find comfort in a pack—your father used to do this with you to quiet you, and so I do with my child."

He fell back asleep with Altair's rumbling, waking up several hours later to feel Altair stirring and the baby babbling underneath him. He got off him and let Altair straighten, and his mentor scooped up the baby, who had wiggled free of its blankets and was reaching for his father. Darim was a squirmy, talky mess, and Desmond couldn't help but smile as he held out a finger. The baby took his finger and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on it, and he couldn't help but laugh as it gummed his finger.

"He is strong," Altair murmured, and Desmond grinned, leaning forward and touching noses with his mentor.

"Indeed. Despite being half-human, he may turn out all right," Ezio said.

"We can hope," Altair murmured, and all three jumped when they heard the door open to find an extremely distressed Maria in the doorway.

She exhaled, loudly, when she saw the baby was okay. "We thought you had crushed him. Thank God."

Altair scowled, holding the child close. "He is not of human descent, Maria."

"Human descent or no, after you broke Tazim's arm roughhousing, I'm not inclined to let you touch the children."

Altair snarled. "It is not our fault."

"Of course it is. You need to learn to control that strength of yours. Hurting children because you can't control yourself is unacceptable."

"Tazim seems to think the scar from my bite is 'cool,' and that he's one step closer to matching his father."

"You hurt our child, Altair. Now hand me the baby."

"No."

The baby jabbered nonsensically along with the two adults.

"Yes, and after seeing as how it seems to be a common thing among your… kind…" she said with a sharp glare at Ezio and Desmond, "I'm even less inclined to let the three of you be together near our child. I heard you last night, howling and racing all over the place. Darim started shrieking along as if it was the best thing he had ever heard, and Tazim came running in, frightened."

Altair handed the child to Desmond, who panicked with how to hold him until Ezio helped him, and rose, snarling. "This child is of my descent. He is not like Tazim."

Desmond smiled at the baby, who reached up, and he let him grab his fingers. Tazim was peeking in around his mother's legs.

"This child—"

"Will be trained like one of us. He will fight like one of us, and he will die as one of us."

"I should think not. This child is half-human, not fully animal."

Altair's lip curled, and Ezio rose. "Maria, he can handle it. Half-human or no, the boy is all ready developing quickly. I believe he is teething. He will be walking by the time he turns six months old and speaking by seven months, since most of our babies stay in the womb for a year. Such is the way we develop."

"He's far more fragile than you—"

Desmond yelped, drawing his finger back and waving it. "That hurt!"

The baby held both hands out, grabbing at his finger and winding up to cry. Desmond panicked and gave him his middle finger, and the child was happily gnawing away again.

"We will get him bone supplements. The same ones from our training. He will be as strong as us in no time."

"Me too?" Tazim asked.

Ezio chuckled and held out his arms, scooping the boy up when he ran over. "We can certainly try."

Tazim smiled, wrapping his arms around Ezio's neck and resting his head on his shoulder. Darim shrieked at the sight of his older brother, and Tazim wiggled down, walking over and sitting by him and Desmond.

"I do not approve of this."

"I do not care if you approve, Maria," Altair growled. "I will not let our bloodline fade so quickly. He is coming to the masque—"

"I don't think so!" Maria hissed. "That's suicid—"

"That is how we teach them. From the earli—"

"You will not take him! That is—"

"Silence!" Altair roared. Desmond winced: he had seen Altair's wrath many times. "I will raise the boy according to the standards of my people! You will not tell me how he is to be raised! You may raise Tazim according to your customs, and I will raise Darim to be what he is supposed to be!"

"A murderer?" Maria screeched.

"A warrior who will come from the race that took down in a year what humans have failed to take out in fifteen years! And he will come with me to the mission and witness his first murder!"

"Altair! He is only four months—"

"He is as old as many of the children from our homeland! From being conceived, he is thirteen months old, and that is the same amount of time as our children!"

"You are insane—"

Altair snarled, pinning her to the wall and growling as she struggled, "This child is not of your race. He is of mine, and he will be raised as such. Is that understood? Ezio, fetch the swaddling cloth, I will make a carrier."

He pushed Maria to the side and returned to where Desmond and the children were happily jabbering away, not making any sense as Altair knelt beside them.

"Ezio, why is your child not here?"

Ezio chuckled. "He is with Leonardo's assistants, protecting their workshop since they are all of nonviolent nature."

"He is no older than Tazim, though," Desmond said.

Ezio smirked. "It is by legacy and myth his mere presence defends our home."

Altair smirked. "If I did not know that Maria could fight of herds of marauders, I would consider leaving him here."

Maria was hovering over him again. "You aren't going to take him. Let him have a normal life."

"He will have a normal life—by our standards."

"Me too?"

Maria scooped up Tazim. "No, I will not let you have such a terrible life."

"Me too!" Tazim screeched. "Altair, me too!"

Desmond started laughing as Altair started creating a carrier for Darim.

"And just where would Tazim be if he was one of you?"

They glanced to see Malik standing in the doorway. Altair didn't even look. "He would be training under me, accompanying me on hunts and missions, and beginning a formal education."

"You cannot be seriously contemplating letting Tazim go with these beasts!"

Malik walked over, his face grave. "How much training would Tazim have had?"

"Enough that he could defend the house minimally," Ezio murmured. "That is why Emiliano will be fine with Leonardo's assistants. I was tempted to take him with me, but with all the heckling they receive, it was best to leave one of us behind."

"You are going to let the same man who killed your brother—"

Malik waved a hand for silence. "That, in and of itself, was a mistake. One that we all so foolishly made by thinking Kadar would win a sparring match while Altair was agitated. Think logically, Maria, if their system has not failed them yet, perhaps it is best to let Altair train him."

"I do not think so," Maria said. "It is a horrible life."

"It is an effective life. He will make much more money in the ranks of the Resistance as a well-trained fighter. And if he can obtain the same strength that killed Kadar, perhaps his life will not have been in vain."

Altair crawled over to Desmond's side as he played with Darim. "He likes you."

Desmond smiled. "I like him, too. He's adorable."

Altair chuckled quietly. "You were always meant to be a family man."

"What do you mean? Wh-what are you doing?"

Altair had begun wrapping the carrier around the younger, and Darim watched with wide eyes. "You always cared more about the others. You were light-hearted and carefree when I taught you, always with a kind word or the ability to comfort some novice I pushed to the edge. Your personality is one of many to help keep a pack together."

Altair helped him nestle Darim into the carrier, then helped him stand as Ezio came over with a bag.

"I think he'll do well. You should see the Rebecca woman he likes. She'll produce good children," Ezio said, smiling softly as Desmond bounced the boy, smiling at the baby's coos and shrieks.

"He's such a happy baby," Desmond muttered.

"He's happy when he is not alone," Altair said.

"Altair," Malik started.

Altair looked at him.

"Tazim will come with us. I will put him under your training regime, but he will stay hidden for this mission—understood?"

Maria looked absolutely horrified. Altair nodded. "If that is how you wish to train him, so be it."

Malik nodded. "Good. See? I know that you have trouble since you are the one who gave birth to these babies, but there must be some method to their madness if it has not failed yet."

"Malik," Maria began, "I cannot believe you are siding with him!"

"Maria," Altair began, folding his arms, "either way, he will be trained and forced to fight to free our lands. I can give him the advantage he needs to survive."

Maria drew herself up, looking enraged. Ezio took Desmond's hand. "Come, let's go to the ship."

Desmond nodded and followed him out, talking gaily with Darim as the baby babbled on. Lucy and Shaun were shocked to see him carrying the child, and Lucy was drawn in like a bear to honey, smiling and playing with him. Shaun took the bag and fixed a bottle of milk for him, and Desmond ended up sitting on their bed, Lucy on one side and Shaun on the other as he fed the baby, who was torn between eating and yammering on to his new audience. Rebecca sat on his legs, laughing and talking back whenever he would cast aside the bottle to entertain.

Altair came in at noon, holding Tazim's hand. Malik stood on his child's other side, holding his hand. Altair smiled as Tazim pulled loose and demanded Shaun pulled him up to see his younger brother. Malik and Altair walked over and moved onto the queen-sized bed.

"Where's Ezio?" Desmond asked.

"Asleep, with Leonardo," his mentor murmured. "And Maria is preparing your room for us."

Lucy smiled. "That's okay. I get the feeling Desmond will be sleeping here tonight, correct?"

Desmond smiled. "Yup."

"I'll go get Baby in the air," Rebecca said. "Let's get this party started!"

She disappeared, and Desmond settled down with the baby. Darim was a lively little baby, and he loved it when Tazim would offer a finger out or say something to him. Altair was smiling softly as he watched them.

"It seems our children will get along well."

"Better than us. But wait, sibling rivalry will get to them."

"Don't be such a downer, Malik," Desmond said. "If you raise them right, then they won't hate each other."

Desmond kissed Darim's head, inhaling deeply. There was something about the baby's smell (as he screamed in delight and chewed on his middle finger instead of eating, like he should be) that Desmond found wonderful. Tazim giggled in Shaun's lap, and the youngest of the three fighters was completely at ease propped against the headboard with the baby in his lap and his family all around him.

He fell into a cycle with Darim and Tazim over the next few days. He slept with Darim against his chest in the bed with Lucy and Shaun (and sometimes Rebecca), rose a little before one to take him out on the deck when he had problems with indigestion at one, fed him three times a day (while also eating with Tazim, who loved the attention), helped Altair and Ezio begin teaching Tazim to fight (while leaving the others to wonder just how such moves were possible with a little child, but Desmond soldiered on with Darim on his chest in the carrier), and avoided Maria.

Tazim was eager to learn, always ready to keep moving forward, and he had to admire the kid's toughness. Despite not having the same training regime, or the same body type, as the pack mates in the village, Tazim never gave up, and only once did he plop on the deck and start crying, which Desmond quickly remedied with a kind word and a piece of taffy.

As they drew closer to the place where the masquerade was to be held, Lucy started pulling out their most grand and extravagant costumes. She had ornate masks and poofy dresses (which Rebecca pitched a huge fit about), and Desmond had never been more happy when he saw Shaun's outfit that he could wrap his black cloak around him and Darim and hide in the shadows instead of actually participating.

Tazim would be strapped to Altair's back and carried by him. Ezio would cover the back left of the ballroom, Altair the back right, and Desmond the front—the least busy once everyone was in. He was more nervous the longer he dwelled on it, because he would have such a precious bundle on him, and as he buckled his coat on the night of the masquerade, he was terrified. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, Darim will be restless if you are nervous."

He chuckled at Ezio's advice as Darim shrieked happily under the black fabric, his head peeking out. Desmond smiled as he pulled the hood over his eyes, gently petting the back of the baby's head. Altair came in dressed in a similar fashion with Tazim strapped to his front.

"He looks right at home," Altair murmured, and Tazim looked at Darim, who was squirming under the cloak.

The three black-cloaked men walked out to the deck, watching as the scenery passed underneath. Tazim was peeking out of Altair's cloak.

"'M afraid."

"Shush," Desmond said, touching their noses together. "Altair will protect you."

Tazim whimpered.

"He's not going to let anything harm you, okay? How are we getting down?"

Altair pointed to large pile of leaves and grass just outside the building walls. Desmond nodded.

"We cannot be seen. Once the ship lands, it will be taken, searched, and parked. We cannot be seen."

Desmond nodded, watching the pile grow closer as they flew in lower for a landing. He hopped on the rails and prepared to leap. Ezio placed a hand on his leg. –I'm first.-

Altair perched on the other side. –I'm second. Watch over my son.-

Desmond nodded and got ready.

"What about the others?"

Altair shook his head, and Ezio chuckled.

"They are getting ready."

Desmond nodded, tensing when Ezio leapt from the rail. Altair flew next, and soon enough, he was falling through the air, holding Darim's head against his chest as the baby babbled the entire way down. He exhaled when his back hit the leaves, and he popped out of the lawn trimmings, still holding Darim close. He shushed the baby, nuzzling against the top of his head and growling softly to get him to quiet as he joined his pack mates in the dark of the night. He brushed noses with Tazim again, the child shaking from falling so high. Once the child was calmed, they moved like "crows at midnight" over the wall and along to the rooftop, sliding in through an opened window.

Darim cooed softly, and Desmond was quick to shush him as he watched Altair and Ezio disappear into their different stations. He settled down in a small ledge overlooking the ballroom floor, admiring the beautiful gowns of the women and wondering how the Hell they did it. The night passed quickly as he kept half an eye on the dancers and the other on Darim. He left a little before one, letting Darim cry and scream in the safety of their ship, which was parked at the far end of the area, where there weren't any guards. He slipped back in after his fit, hiding securely before pulling out a bottle from one of the pockets in his coat and letting Darim eat.

He could see Altair and Ezio from where he was, Altair slipping Tazim snacks from a pocket on his coat. When his bottle was empty, Darim burped and settled in for sleep. Desmond smiled softly, leaning in and inhaling deeply. There was nothing like the smell of a baby. Darim cooed softly as Desmond started growling quietly to give him the vibrations to help him fall asleep. When a guard looked at the ledge (it was purely for decorative reasons, there wasn't actually a way to reach it save the window), he hide farther into the plants and vases.

An hour or two after both Tazim and Darim had fallen asleep, the action finally started. Their marks made a grand announcement, and Desmond picked out Lucy and the others mixed into the crowd, and before they knew it, there were guards all over the place surrounding the guests that were starting to panic. And then they open-fired.

Desmond went ballistic as he saw the others hit the floor, leaping from his ledge and landing on the bald mark, severing his head with the claws as he went for the next target, snarling when a black-haired man with a beard caught his hand. He lashed out with his foot, hearing the satisfying "shwick" of the claw on his foot sinking into the man's stomach. There was a grunt, and he could see the bodies falling from the upper floors as his pack mates ripped through them like a warm knife through butter.

He spun to see Lucy take down several guards at once, panic causing the remaining guests to flee. He grunted when he felt something sink into his back, and he snarled as he spun and fell upon a man with a horned mask and blonde hair. He could feel Darim squirm against his chest as he pounded the man's face in, ignoring the bite of several bullets. He felt Ezio land on the man beside him, snarling as he rendered him limb from limb. Altair was a snarling, whirling mess as he started in on the guards on the ground, ripping the heart out of one of the men Shaun was in the process of shooting and moving onto the next man.

Darim was silent, watching as the fight was over quicker than Desmond would've liked, watching several of the men run out of the ballroom. He howled, hearing Altair and Ezio join in, and Darim screamed and shrieked, squirmed and laughed in his cloak as his bright brown eyes surveyed the carnage. Altair snarled again as he started to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Desmond grimaced as he leaned over, dipping his fingers in the blood of the bald man and spreading it across Darim's lips. Darim licked his lips almost eagerly, still shrieking with glee. Desmond exhaled loudly, feeling warmth spread across his back and dribble down. Lucy came over as he wobbled.

"Desmond?"

He smiled softly before he fell to his knees. "I think I got hit. I know in the back. I should probably get that checked out."

Lucy was helping him out of his jacket.

"Oh my God…" she breathed. "And Darim?"

Maria was by his side, undoing the sling and pulling the happy baby away as Desmond leaned against Lucy heavily.

"Still good, just as promised."

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He woke up in the giant bed, sore. Desmond could feel a heartbeat under his ear and a hand running through his hair. He lifted his hand to grip lightly at the chest. The person gasped, and he realized it was a woman.

"Desmond? You're awake? Get Leonardo, Rebecca."

"Right away!"

He fell back asleep, in pain, and the next time he woke, he felt significantly better, blinking and trying to see around a head of black hair. The hair moved, and he saw Tazim sit up from cuddling on his chest. "Waked up."

The boy moved and wandered out of the room, and he stretched slightly. He watched as a few moments later Rebecca, Lucy, and Shaun entered.

"Hey. Feeling slightly better?"

Desmond smiled. "Yeah."

Lucy walked over and sat beside him, holding his hand. "You had us worried. Thank God Leonardo was here."

Rebecca pole-vaulted over the foot of the bed, landing on his legs. He chuckled as Shaun sat on his other side and took his other hand.

"Stabbed in the gut and shot in the shoulder, thigh, and ribs."

"And I lived?"

"That's what we've been saying," Lucy murmured, leaning over and rubbing their noses together.

Desmond smiled, and Ezio, Altair, and the others walked in. Tazim demanded he be picked up and sat on the bed, and Darim shrieked happily when he saw Desmond.

"We're winning, Desmond," Altair said quietly, smiling softly. "The Resistance is winning."

"It's good to see you're with us again," Ezio said.

"I'm glad I am," he said as he gave Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca a kiss in turn for no adequately explained reason at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Guys, I am so sorry for my ridiculously long chapters, but dividing them up is quite a hassle since they're all in one document. Forgive me. <strong>

**And for my love of AUs.  
><strong>


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